


How to Remember

by katesfire



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Human Trafficking, Star Trek: Voyager - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katesfire/pseuds/katesfire
Summary: There were only five things Kathryn knew: 1) that she existed in a dark place and knew nothing beyond it; 2) that others visited frequently to cause pain to her person; 3) food and drink were delivered regularly through a space that opened in the wall; 4) her instincts told her that this was not always how things had been; and 5) the symbol that unobtrusively flashed in her head over and over meant something.





	1. When All Has Been Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Enormous thanks to my beta and writing sister Cheile! 
> 
> Of course I don't own anything of Star Trek, I just borrow the characters to play in the universe so I can bring stories to light you would never see on network TV.

Present Day

What form of cataclysmic event must occur to wipe the brain entirety? A factory reset of the hardware, so to speak, that obliterates the records of a lifetime from the brain of an individual. Amnesia was a well-studied phenomenon that, sometimes, there just was no repair from. No amount of medical intervention could restore what had been lost. Other times, technology was to blame, and the memory was salvageable.

Memory is a queer thing. What is it about a particular moment or event that allows it to be permanently etched into the brain while others, perhaps even more profound, simply vanish?

Why does one remember random things like objects from childhood?

Snippets of dialogue from a lecture on quantum physics?

The smell of caramel brownies baking and hot coffee wafting through the air and the way they would enliven the senses and rejuvenate the soul?

And yet forget other things that were likely more important, or even more significant?

These are the sorts of things Kathryn Janeway would have pondered, if she had remembered that she _was_ Kathryn Janeway. Or, perhaps she might have been able to explain the process by which the brain recorded and stored memories if she had remembered that her initial training had been in the science disposition. Andshe might have been able to explain the one memory she retained: a symbol of arching lines that didn’t constitute the make-up of anything in the room where she existed.

But, the fact of the matter was, outside of this one symbol which she had invisibly traced over and over on every surface available, Kathryn Janeway remembered nothing about herself:  her history, her life, or how she had come to be locked in a dark room where she was ritually tortured. She didn't even remember the language she spoke or whether she had ever spoke a language at all.

There were only five things Kathryn knew: 1) that she existed in a dark place and knew nothing beyond it; 2) that _others_ visited frequently to cause pain to her person; 3) food and drink were delivered regularly through a space that opened in the wall; 4) her instincts told her that this was not always how things had been; and 5) the symbol that unobtrusively flashed in her head over and over meant something.

None of the _others_ who came to visit her seemed to repeat, save one, and they all varied in size, shape, and features. And, none of them seemed to be _the same_ as she was. And there was another thing she recognized: everything she could recall had always occurred in this one room.

The space of light appeared in the wall and one of the _others_ stepped in before it disappeared. He made noises at her, but she didn't understand. She laid on the only comfortable spot in the dark room. She had learned that this was what the _others_ expected of her. If she did what they wanted, usually they left her in less pain after they were finished with her. When she fought them, she was often left with strange discolorations on her person and wet with the liquid that seeped from cuts and other places on her body.

This _other_ was different. She did what she believed he expected, but he hurt her anyway. Repeatedly he stabbed into her body, pummeling her with his fists until she fought to escape him, screaming against the pain he inflicted. He bit her and she feared he had mistaken her for his meal.

And then there was a space of time when she remembered nothing again. When she finally woke and attempted to move, she hurt everywhere and the dark liquid that oozed from the sore spots seemed to have dried. She wondered how long he had continued his torment after she slept.

No food or water was brought when her stomach seemed to want it. Generally, one of the _others_ in garments the color of the light space came and rendered aid to her. She had learned not to fear them, though she was wary because she was never allowed to pass through the opening of light with them when they left. She had tried a couple of times and the _other_ in light colors had jabbed her with a stick that caused her pain and rendered her immobile.

So, there she sat on the comfortable spot, waiting for what seemed like a long time, pondering this change in the status quo. There was very little that seemed to be explainable in her predicament. If she could have remembered her history and her language, Kathryn would have been able to know that she was the captain of the Federation Starship _Voyager_ , and that nearly one month ago she had agreed to being subjected to this life following a negotiation and rescue that had gone terribly wrong.

 

Thirty Days Ago

_"Wildman to Voyager!"_ Kathryn Janeway glanced to her left at her First Officer who returned her suspicious expression with a cocked eyebrow at the panicked tone of Wildman's hail.

" _Voyager_ here. Go ahead, Samantha."

_"Naomi is gone! She was right beside me in the marketplace looking at some jewelry and a moment later she was gone!"_

"Calm down, Samantha," Kathryn advised. She knew her words would have a futile effect and she could only imagine the feelings cascading through the worried mother. "We will do a sensor sweep and try to locate her. Standby.” She turned and tossed a glance over her shoulder at her Chief of Security whose fingers were already tapping away at his console.

"Tuvok, are any other crewmen missing from the surface?" Chakotay asked, pre-empting his Captain’s next question.

“All crew are accounted for, including Naomi Wildman, " he reported.

“What are Naomi’s coordinates? " Kathryn asked, not wanting to doubt the frantic report from the girl's mother but trusting her ship’s powerful sensors more. Perhaps Naomi merely wandered out of sight as she and her mother were shopping. When Tuvok knit his brows together in confusion, she began to second guess her faith in the sensors.

"Naomi Wildman is currently located in the southern hemisphere on the southernmost continent at..." the dark-skinned Vulcan paused, tapping his console with quick, practiced fingers.  "Apologies, Captain. Naomi Wildman's current location is in the northern hemisphere, eastern continent, at …"

"Commander?" she questioned, wariness in her voice. It wasn't like him to make a mistake, let alone two in a row.

“Captain, I believe the sensors may be malfunctioning. " he reported, quickly tapping his console, attempting to determine the cause for the erroneous sensor readout. "Ms. Wildman's location appears to be in a state of flux."

"Is this malfunction localized to just Naomi?" Kathryn asked, wondering if perhaps the child’s comm badge had somehow been damaged.

If Tuvok could look pale, he would have. As it was, a momentary shade of concern drifted across his features, though he would have denied it if he had been called on it. “Negative, Captain. The phenomenon appears to include Lieutenants Torres and Vorik, Seven of Nine, and Crewman Tal Celes.”

“Harry?" she turned quickly, not missing the way Tom straightened at the helm at the mention of his wife’s name. She was hoping that Ops. would have an explanation which included the words "simple malfunction."

"I am running a level four sensor analysis now, but so far there are no anomalies," the young Ensign replied.

"Tuvok, can you get a transporter lock on any of them?" she asked. She’d had a feeling this “oasis” was too good to be true and now she was beginning to wonder if that nagging feeling had been correct all along. Allusia was in a planetary system that seemed to have everything they needed and catered to their every desire. It was unreal. Whether it was it dilithium, seeds for airponics, novels to broaden their library, even the rudimentary sculpting tools Chakotay had mentioned wanting to see if he could locate rather than replicating. She kept feeling as though their ships logs had been scanned, personal logs had been mined, because abracadabra, everything they desired to procure was laid before them.

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth," she muttered to herself, which drew a cocked eyebrow look from Chakotay. She shook her head, warning him against asking her to repeat what she had said.

"Negative, Captain. I can, however, get a lock on the crew members’ life signs that are not in a state of flux."

"I don’t want to jump the gun yet. Commander, I want you and Tuvok to work out the last known location of our missing crew. Make absolutely certain that they are, indeed, missing. I don't want our hosts to be alerted that we suspect anything untoward. Put everyone remaining on the surface on alert but tell them to refrain from any sort of suspicious behavior. Send all data to my Ready Room." She realized she nearly forgot about Samantha.

“Ensign Wildman?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"We will find Naomi. For now, I want you to return to _Voyager_."

"Aye, Captain. Wildman out."

Her reply sounded very deflated as though she was going to protest but thought better of it. Kathryn’s heart went out to the worried woman, but the last thing she needed was a hysterical mother on the surface when they were trying to avoid tipping off their hosts. This way they might get a head start on their investigations. And, if there really was nothing underhanded happening and their missing crew was merely a "glitch", they didn't want to create any enemies by flinging accusations.

"Tom, I want you to go down to the surface. You seem to have a knack for blending in with the locals. See if you can find out if this perfect oasis is more than it appears."

"Yes, Ma’am.''

She was hesitant to send anyone new to the surface, but she knew Tom had the ability to get information from places and people she would rather not know about.

"You have the bridge, Commander." A sense of foreboding gnawed at her stomach. One thing was for certain, she needed a cup of coffee.

***

A full twelve hours passed, and several cups of coffee drank before she issued the order to slowly recall their crew from the surface. That order had been prompted by the report she had received from Tom Paris.

Their perfect oasis was, indeed, an illusion. What lay beneath the facade was a black-market trafficking operation sanctioned and operated by the rich and powerful elite. Worse yet, one of the most prolific traffickers was the planet's Prime Minister: Ebonara Onexi. The rumor was that he ran an underground, exclusive resort of sorts which the name loosely translated into Sinful Carnival. Patrons were invited to purchase time with Onexi's performers where the purchaser could use the performance time to satisfy their most depraved desires with the performer. And, he liked oddities. Travelers from far off lands were his specialty and commanded the highest price.

It made perfect sense why B'Elanna, Vorik, Seven, Tal, and Naomi were abducted. It also made her sick to think about what was happening to them at this very moment, particularly Naomi. She tried to push those thoughts from her mind, but they kept clawing at her, sending chills down her spine.

It further disgusted Kathryn to know that she’d been schmoozing with Onexi just days before. He had been all over her, and she had been grateful when Chakotay had come to her rescue on several occasions. She hoped his attraction to her would hold some weight now that this had become a hostage negotiation situation.

She entered the bridge from her Ready Room, not having been forthcoming about the card she held up her sleeve and planned to play if negotiations failed. She had briefed her staff a couple of hours ago but held back. She knew the reaction they would have given her if she had told them. She didn’t want to play her ace card, but she would if Onexi forced her hand.

"Hail Prime Minister Onexi," she ordered. She shared a gaze with Chakotay as she waited for Tuvok to make the connection and he read something in her eyes she hadn't meant to reveal. She could instantly tell it set him ill at ease. Instead of holding his eyes, she let hers drift to the lines of black etched in his forehead which she had traced hundreds of times in her mind, just as she suspected he knew every strand of her hair. It was a game she mentally called Proximity. They could only come so close to one another before their proximity became ill-advised and dangerous to the command structure. It was a frustrating game, but one that she was certain was necessary for their continued survival and continuity of the command structure.

"My dearest Captain, are you to be leaving us so soon? I have noticed you have recalled your crew. " Onexi put on a pout which seemed awkwardly juxtaposed against the outwardly sinister look of his species. Their skin tones seemed to range from deep red to almost a dark pink. His was deep red in color. The whole of the species seemed to be graced with jet black hair and their eyes were of the darkest of hues across the spectrum. His were a very dark brown to the point of nearly looking black.

"We must continue our journey; however, I have five members of my crew that we cannot locate. You wouldn't be able to tell me their location, would you?"

"Most beautiful Captain, I hardly believe, after my hospitality, you could be insinuating what your tone suggests. Perhaps your crew got better offers in the marketplace from other captains. It has happened," he suggested in a very blasé tone.

"I might be inclined to believe that if one of them wasn't a _child_. Additionally, our sensors still show them on the surface; however, their life signs erratically jump across the globe to 56 different locations repeating approximately every 15 minutes." She stared hard at him, letting him know she could see right through his lies. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Minister?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "You have imbibed yourselves of my planet and I have taken my payment for having provided you with such hospitality, as any merchant would do."

"That wasn't part of the arrangement, Onexi," her voice dropped several decides.

"You never asked, my dear. Do you really believe you can avail yourselves of a paradise such as my planet and not have a price attached?"

She hated his flippant tone, his superiority complex. “You invited us. I hardly think your negotiations are fair if you withhold the matter of price."

"You came within my territory, I made it my business to know your needs and I invited you to my marketplace. You don't believe such services should be paid for? What a queer place you come from."

She set her jaw and placed her hands on her hips. "I believe there should be transparency in the arrangements. Since you obviously have taken advantage of your superior position and bargaining power. I would like to propose a renegotiation of our trade arrangements." He had left her with very little options but to use the ace up her sleeve.

"What an intriguing notion. You have my attention. I would never have considered a renegotiation of terms after the fact. This could be a very beneficial tool. Please, amuse me, enlighten me, beguile me, as you most certainly can!" Onexi was leaning towards his monitor. He was positively entranced by the beautiful traveler who seemed to be engendered with such authority.

"Release my crew members to me and I'll give you what you really want," she offered.

"Now, my Captain, darling. I just don't believe you. Besides, how could you know of my wants?”

“Oh, I think I know enough to believe that if I offered myself in the place of the others, you would be inclined to take my offer.” She saw Chakotay’s head snap in her direction, suddenly realizing that they had been left in the dark as to part of her plan.

“You would give yourself to me in exchange for five others? Seems disadvantageous to your crew to lose their captain on such a long journey."

He had taken the bait and she had read him like a book. "Are you questioning my word, Onexi? Besides, my First Officer and crew are trained very well to carry on without me should something happen to me. That is why it is so important my crewmen be returned, especially the child."

"Oh, and what can a child do? " he snorted. He knew very well why he wanted her, and it had nothing to do with a starship and more about serving some of his mere depraved clientele.

"She is the Captain's Assistant, an apprentice of sorts." Janeway fibbed. "She is in training to continue this journey of ours for me as it is expected to take a lifetime." This time, it was Samantha’s head that turned in her direction, realizing the magnitude of what her Captain had just offered in order to secure the safe return of her daughter.

"And you mean what you say? You for the five?"

"Yes, me for the five," she repeated, ignoring Chakotay's pleading look at her side. She knew he hated it when she deviated from the agreed plan, but she knew offering Onexi technology wasn't going to satisfy him.

"Then this concludes our renegotiation. Captain. The marketplace is where the exchange will occur in one hour. Onexi out."

"Tuvok. you have the bridge. Commander?" She gestured to the turbo lift and didn't wait for his acknowledgement before moving towards it. "Deck six," she ordered as the doors closed.

He was barely able to contain himself until the doors hissed closed. "Damn it, Kathryn, what are you thinking? We agreed to offer a copy of our entire database if we had to, maybe some minor technology. We didn’t discuss you offering yourself as a hostage on a silver platter!"

“Do you really think a trafficker like Onexi was going to be interested in photons, replicator technology and Federation literature? Besides, after the way he was all over me at the reception dinner, I had a hunch he would agree to my terms."

"There has got to be another way,'' he insisted as the lift let them out at deck six and she led the way into Sickbay.

"Both of my commanding officers in the same day absent an emergency? To what do I owe the pleasure?" the Doctor asked in a chipper tone as he exited from his office.

"There is an emergency. The Captain needs a psych eval. She just offered herself as a hostage,'' Chakotay grumbled.

The Doctor blinked at him in disbelief. "And you somehow believe this sort of reckless behavior is out of the ordinary? Honestly Commander, have you been asleep for the past six years or are you simply oblivious?"

Janeway nearly had to stifle a laugh at the hologram's mock annoyance at the sheer obviousness of her character. Flying the ship between two pulsars had even caused Tuvok to accuse her of reckless behavior. This paled in comparison to that. "Doctor, can you place an implant under my skin in a place that would be inconspicuous?"

"Of course. What type of implant did you have in mind?"

“A transporter transponder with a homing beacon," she told him, her eyes finding Chakotay’s. She intended on having her cake and eating it too. To him she said: “A certain Ferengi I have taken great joy in alleviating of some of his profits once told me never buy back anything that was stolen from you but always take it back for free if presented with the opportunity."

"What's your plan, Captain?" he asked as the Doctor prepared the transponder.

"Tuvok will accompany me to the marketplace with a security team. They will fan out with pattern enhancers. Once Onexi releases our people, everyone will be transported back to _Voyager_. I don’t want to take any chances that he will double cross us and take me without releasing them."

"So, why the implant?''

She laid down at the Doctor’s gesture and he began implanting the small device in her left wrist.

"Just a precaution. If Onexi does manage to take me. I figure it will help you to locate me quicker than trying to figure out how he is making the life signs bounce like a tennis ball around the planet," she explained as the procedure was completed and the Doctor used the dermal regenerator to avoid leaving any trace that a recent incision had been made in her wrist. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Of course, Captain," he replied as they exited Sickbay almost as quickly as they had arrived.

“I wish you had told me, Kathryn," he said quietly as they paused outside the turbolift.

"I figured you would try to find some way to stop me,” she replied. Such was a common occurrence when he didn’t agree with her plan. That was followed by some brooding when she circumvented him or refused to go along with his alternative course of action. She wanted to skip the routine this time.

"Have I ever been successful in doing that?" he asked with a wry chuckle.

 _Once,_ she thought, remembering when she had nearly gone too far, but he'd been there to pull her back. She also recalled another time when their friendship suffered severely due to the fact that they sharply disagreed on which course to follow.

"Let’s just get this over with so we can be on our way," she said instead.

“Aye aye, Captain," he replied with a salute before boarding the lift.

She leaned through the doors, letting her hand find his chest and offering him a warm smile. “Dinner’s on me when this is all over with."

He chuckled. “Should I interpret that in the literal sense?" he asked, his good nature momentarily restored by her flirtation.

She realized her gaff and felt a hot blush rise in her cheeks then deviousness took over and she smirked. "No. However, dessert is open for interpretation." She nearly burst out laughing at his surprised expression as the lift doors cut off any reply he might have made. She waited for the lift to return before she summoned Tuvok to join her with a security detail and the pattern enhancers. Despite the gnawing anxiety that had taken over the pit of her stomach, she told herself this would work.

A short time later she was waiting in the marketplace of Allusia. Her security officers were civilian clothed with the pattern enhancers strapped to their sides under long coats to avoid alerting others of their presence among the patrons. As soon as everyone came into position, they could easily unstrap the devices and have them in position in seconds.

Kathryn knew to stay within the triangle of her team. She wasn't about to freely turn herself over to Onexi, despite her so-called _renegotiation_. She saw B’Elanna enter the marketplace and watched as the Lieutenant picked out her fellow crewmates and wasted no time at all in determining the reasoning for their positioning around the marketplace and she quickly moved into position. Vorik and Seven were just as quick on the pickup and Tal wasn't far behind. That’s when Kathryn saw the strawberry-blonde child, though she was moving away from the marketplace. She knew it was a risk, but the child was closest to Kathryn and she also knew they couldn't expect Naomi to know the significance of why _Voyager’s_ security officers stood in the formation which they did. And, due to her height, she might not have seen any of them in the crowded area, so she wasn’t likely to move towards them.

Kathryn broke from within the formation, calling out to the child as she followed her, watching the strawberry-blonde head bob between patrons. But then, she rounded a corner and, even though Kathryn was on her heels, she was gone by the time she came around the same corner. Kathryn turned around and only had a moment to recognize the error in judgment as she saw the real Naomi  as she was protectively encircled in Seven's arms. She began to make for the formation when she was suddenly bumped into by a large man and she felt the tingle of a transporter beam envelope her. Her last thought was the hope that it was _Voyager's_.

“I am very disappointed, Captain.'' the sound of Onexi's voice let her know that she hadn't been swept up by _Voyager’s_ transporter at all and she prayed the others were safe. “A deal is a deal and I always get paid. Unfortunately for you, you will pay for your deception," he informed her. "Though I am impressed by your ingenuity." He took her left hand and slid his fingers up her wrist. "What a brilliant little bit of technology. My transport operator took the liberty of relieving you of it and your communications device during transport. So, it’s just us now."

"And what do you mean to do with me?" she asked, silently hoping rescue would happen in short order.

His grin was nothing short of devilish. "Exploit you, my dear. You see, you belong to me now and I can guarantee you will be a popular attraction in my little side business. You will perform for me and I will become richer for it."

"You operate a brothel of sorts,” she accused, feeling queasy.

"You have done your homework. However, a brothel implies that I merely sell sex. No, my exotic pet. I sell depravity, fantasy; I cater to the filthiest desires. My clients pay time with my performers and during that paid for block they are entitled to do anything they wish… well, short of killing my performer. Unless the price is right, of course. Everything is for sale for the right price, isn’t it? Including a particularly exotic starship Captain."

Kathryn was horrified and suddenly she wondered at what kind of shape her crew members were in, especially little Naomi. She banished the thoughts from her head. She had to focus and concentrate if she was going to gain the upper hand.

As if reading her thoughts, he continued: "I didn’t have nearly enough time with the others to prepare them. I was hoping you would believe they simply took other posts and be on your way. That bit of fallacy often appeases other ship's Captains. Though, I have to say, despite our renegotiations, I was considering keeping the child. I could have catered to an entirely new breed of depravity with that one. And your Borg would have been a favorite, too. You have no idea the things some of my clients would have liked to do to her. Those two would have commanded some of the highest prices ever paid for _performances._ "

She wasn't at full panic yet. _Voyager_ would find her. Chakotay would stop at nothing until they retrieved her. At that realization, she suddenly felt foolish for insisting they not pursue a romantic entanglement. Even though they were nothing beyond friends, officially, she knew how he felt for her and knew he wouldn't leave this system without her. It was a road she hadn't wanted to risk traveling with him yet somehow, they were already several kilometers down it.

"So, what happens next?" _Keep him talking,_ she told herself. If she kept him distracted, it would give Voyager time to find her and delay whatever he had in mind for her.

"My, my aren’t you an anxious one," he commented, the glittering grin and spark in his eyes lighting up.

"Not really. I just prefer to know what to expect."

"Don’t worry, we will alleviate you of that in short order."

"How do you mean?"

"First, I will process you and prep you for reprogramming. I don’t leave a single thing to chance. Most of my patrons don’t appreciate their performer having a solitary agenda of escaping. So, you will be fitted with a neuro implant that will suppress all your memories. Over time, as the implant learns your brain, it determines what impulses and chemicals to introduce in order to completely erase the memories of your former life. Your entire identity will be wiped right down to your native language, all knowledge beyond the most basic functions and humanoid instincts will be gone. During this time, you will perform and become acclimated to your new purpose. It is a particularly frightening period for many of my performers as they are nothing more than feral, unrefined animals with only their animal instincts. Some of my clientele really enjoy these sessions. After the memory wipe is complete, you will be ready for reprogramming and that’s where the fun begins. Your brain will be mine and I can give you any persona I want. You become my puppet and I can make you a sultry vixen, a warrior, a frightened peasant. Whatever performer my clients choose from a catalog of options, I can make you behave in the manner they crave. I can make you believe you are anyone I want to. The implant prevents the personas from being permanent so my performers can be reprogrammed."

She couldn’t prevent the tremble of fear that descended her spine. "Can I ask what the mortality rate is among your performers?" Part of her didn't want to know, but she had to know her odds of survival until _Voyager_ could rescue her.

"That all depends on your popularity. The neuro implant takes about 30 days to wipe the brain permanently. My strongest performers have lasted through 300 reprogramming sessions. My more popular performers are reprogrammed sometimes 5 times a night."

 _Ninety days._ The strongest had survived only ninety days! She wondered what constituted the strongest but was afraid to know the answer. "Why do you do this?" she asked, feeling ill inside. He was as monstrous as his exterior suggested.

"Profit, of course. If I stopped now, only the next two generations of my family could continue living in lavish comfort for all their lives. I have a future and a legacy to be concerned with."

"Yet the future and lives of others mean so little to you?"

“Why should they? If they weren’t inferior, they wouldn’t have been so easy to capture. Those who are inferior have limited purpose in this universe. Either you serve or are served. In this case, my dear Captain, you shall serve me,” he replied, annoyance clear in his tone. He snapped his fingers and his guards descended on her, taking her by the arms and escorting her to the surgical table in the room. They secured her to its surface face down and he trimmed her of her uniform and undergarments in short order as she struggled against her bonds.

"Oh, you are soft," he appraised, completely forgetting his irritation at her previous question on his morality. He palpated the fleshy globes of her bottom, inserted fingers into her orifices as she struggled and cried out in protest. He ran spindly fingers through her hair. "Exotic indeed. My clients are certainly going to enjoy you. I wonder what color you bleed," he mused.

Kathryn trembled on the bed and not entirely from the cold metal upon which she was prone. She was terrified of this monster and what he meant to do to her. In this moment, she prayed for death rather than the temporary future he had described.

"This may hurt," he whispered in her ear, his breath stirring the delicate hairs along her neck, his tone twisted in maniacal delight. He wasted no time in plunging what felt like a dagger into the back of her head, just above where her neck met her skull.

She felt the fiery pain burning through her skull and she tried to think of something, anything that would shut out the sounds of the screaming that wouldn't stop as she failed to recognize the screams were her own. The image her mind settled on was Chakotay's face, tracing the lines of his dark tattoo in her mind as though she could will him to find her, as though she could touch him with her mind across space and time. The pain continued to burn like a thousand white hot stars were threatening to explode from within her skull. She felt if she opened her eyes, she might burn holes straight through the metal table below her as the heat escaped from their blue depths.

Then, there was nothingness.

There was no pain, no sense of fear. It was like a wave swept through her and wiped everything away. And in that moment after the first sense of nothingness, she couldn't remember that there had ever been anything but the feeling of tranquility. There were no battles, no struggle, no stress, no impending foreboding, no monster stealing her life. There was just calm, quiet. Her mind was still waters.

Kathryn Janeway ceased to exist as anything but a living, breathing shell who remembered a pattern of lines. The implant in the back of her skull, which she had no knowledge of, was working exactly as her master intended, erasing everything that made her Kathryn Janeway: all of the memories and experience of a lifetime were simply gone from her brain and she was a blank slate.

"Now, pretty one, I own you," Onexi told her as he released her from the table, and he appraised her nude form when she stood before him.

Kathryn merely cocked her head at this _other_ , not understanding the sounds he made with his mouth. She looked at him, wondering. She had no ability to explain the basic wonderings, but they were very primal as her animal instincts took over. She was attempting to determine friend or foe. So far, she had nothing to tell her the answer as to who this _other_ was.

“Who are you?" he asked.

She stared at him, mute and confused, though she shrank back at his tone, guarded, as she tried to figure him out.

Onexi was pleased with himself as he picked up the whip from his instrument tray. He had to be certain he hadn't screwed up and damaged her. Her brain was foreign to him and though the device had successfully worked most of the time, other times he encountered incompatibility. Death was not common; however, he had left performers with other crippling maladies. Sometimes, he had left them bereft of physical sensation and some of his clientele had gone to great pains to test that condition. The outcome had not been a pretty sight.

He snapped the whip across her chest, leaving an angry red welt which caused her to cry out and drop to her knees, cowering. For good measure, he lashed her again and she scampered away to escape from him, but he followed, continuing to reach her with the long instrument, producing ever louder cries from her confused, terrified form. He was teaching her he was her master. He was to be feared. He was getting a thrill out of seeing such a powerful woman reduced to the terrified little wretch she now was.

Normally he didn’t avail himself of his performers, but this one he had to have first. He had been intrigued by her pale skin, her glowing blue eyes, her slight form ever since he had laid eyes on her. Now, she was his. Now, he would own her. He cornered her, never dropping the whip but unfastening his pants with his free hand. He took her by the hair, forcing her onto all fours on the floor then took her like the animal she now was. She struggled beneath him, cried out at the invasion to her body; her fear was so palpable he could almost taste it in the air. The softness of the skin beneath his calloused hands delighted him in unexpected ways. Yes, she would please his clients who enjoyed his exotics.

When he finished with her, he left her where she lay on the floor, quietly weeping, completely submissive.

“Now, pretty one. Let’s find you accommodations on the exotic ring." He tapped a few controls and evacuated the cell of his last most popular exotic. He had likely been in his last hours anyway, though he had been an impressive specimen and endured over five-hundred reprogramming. Onexi knew he would have to find out about procuring another Hirogen Hunter one day. But for now, this soft skinned, pale auburn beauty would be a special delight. Since her species originated on the other side of the galaxy, he would command a hefty price for her. Only the richest of clients would afford her, thus making him even richer.

When the evacuation and sanitation cycle was complete, he tapped a few controls on his console and transported her to her new home, a dark cell with little more than a soft pallet on the floor. This would be where she would live the rest of her days. He set about adding her to his inventory, listing her attributes and information he knew of her distant origins.

As he was wrapping up with listing her as available for performances, he was pulled away from his plans by the chime from his comm station and smiled when he saw that it was a message from his wife.

“Ebonra, my love, when will you be coming home? We have Scarlieta's show at her school tonight," his wife, Faustra, reminded him.

Onexi’s smile broadened, thinking of Scarlieta. His young daughter was just about the age of the young _Voyager_ girl he had nearly acquired, though a far cry more beautiful with her deep crimson skin tone, waist length black hair and unusual violet eyes. It was her height and a wig that had helped him distract the Captain of _Voyager_ from the protective enclave of her crew. Scarlieta had thought they had been playing a game and was all too delighted to help her father before he sent her back to school after lunch.

Scarlieta was special, and in more ways than just being his daughter.  Onexi never would have admitted it to even his closest friends, but she was a hybrid. Producing offspring with outside species was intensely scrutinized and frowned upon on Allusia where family genetics meant everything. His daughter was the first of her kind, having been created in a lab to allow his barren wife to have a child of her own. The genetics had been complex but Scarlieta’s genome had resulted in her being gifted with her unusual eyes and coloring. The third party from her genome had been a frail creature, much like his latest acquisition, though she'd had the strangest reproductive organs, life cycle and brain he'd ever encountered. Too bad she had succumbed to the performer’s life after merely twenty reprogramming. It was her unusual brain that was the cause. If he hadn't discovered her pregnancy before evacuating her cell, Scarlieta would never have come to be.

Naturally, he had fathered the child, as he had availed himself of Riessa, too, however having a bastard child never would have been accepted, so he had used Faustra’s DNA and manipulated that of the unborn child to create the beautiful hybrid that she was. It had also left her with a surprising I.Q. among her other special attributes.

"My beautiful wife, of course I have not forgotten. I shall be home soon," he promised. "Just a few schedules left to attend to.''

"I don't deserve you, my hard working Onexi. See you soon."

He considered her words after the screen went dark. She was right. She didn't deserve him, his fortune, or his genius. He hadn't wanted to marry, but his press rep had practically assured him the position of Prime Minister would be his if he had a "family image " to project. And so, he had arranged to marry. Faustra was scarcely an adult and nearly 20 years his junior, but that was part of the design. She was young, unintelligent as to the world at large, and had been very easy to train. He gave her duties and restrictions that were appropriate for the wife of a public official. He had also, very early on, given her a demonstration of what her fate would be if she defied him. She naively believed the location he kept his performers to be a prison for the highly unlawful elements. She was also told that such specifics were not discussed in polite company and she knew well enough to hold her tongue about affairs of state that just did not concern her.

He checked his communications and found he already had numerous clients interested in his most recent acquisition. Initially, he thought to schedule one performance, but when his orbital monitor alerted him that _Voyager_ had yet to break orbit, it soured his mood and reminded him of the attempted deception that had been implanted in her wrist. Tonight, she would pay for that, even though she wouldn't know it, he would, and the idea satisfied him immensely. He scheduled all six clients for performances for her and logged off. He would see exactly what she was made of if she survived the night.

Without another thought, he left his secret office and banished his little carnival, the captain, and _Voyager_ from the forefront of his mind so he could enjoy his perfect daughter's school performance.

While Onexi was lauded and praised by his adoring public, Kathryn, no longer remembering she was Kathryn, suffered through the hell of her _performances._

***

Fear was a very basic emotion and it made her feel sick, made her heart thunder in her chest, engaged her fight and fight reactions. Onexi had left her handicapped with only the knowledge of his whip, him assaulting her, and the inside of the dark cell. She learned when something hurt, she should attempt to avoid it, however there was only so much avoidance she could do in the 9×9 cell which was now her home.

The patrons to her cell entered through the portal of light and then her cell would suddenly illuminate. She had no idea that the sessions were being recorded, yet another side business of Onexi’s. Whether planned or not, the patrons had been scheduled back to back with a gentle, older man first who had wealth, loneliness, and a kink for exotic women first and finishing with a man from a distant part of the galaxy whose kink was to see exactly how loud he could make her scream.

When it was over, the final time the portal of light appeared a tray and pitcher were deposited on the floor, but Kathryn made no move to see what it was. She lay on the soft place on the floor, shaking in fear and in pain from two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, 56 oozing bite marks, claw marks down her back, a broken wrist and more bruises and contusions she could count if she even knew how to count. Every orifice felt like it was on fire. The least painful thing to do was simply lay on her pallet, waiting for death to remove her from this place.

She was left without the ability to understand or explain what had happened to her. Without memory of her past as to what came before, she was without the ability to extrapolate her future. Her only knowledge was of Onexi and his abuse in the other room, then the interior of this dark room. But there was one other thing. Something that existed outside of the current and seemed to drag at her mind from some other time and place: a pattern of lines that she couldn't explain. The lines didn't seem to appear anywhere in the room, yet she could draw them, which she used her blood covered fingertips to do. She stared at the lines, knowing they meant something, though she had no idea what nor any way to communicate to anyone that they were important. So, she lay with an empty mind, tracing the lines she had drawn on the floor next to her pallet until she finally fell into a restless sleep, fraught with waking moments as her performances replayed in her dreams and her injuries were disturbed from her thrashing.

If Kathryn could have, she would likely have begged for a quick death.

 

Present Day 

The hungry noise from her stomach was becoming more annoying than the pain from her injuries. The _others_ never failed to deliver her meal at the correct time. Twice daily the portal of light appeared, and her tray was delivered. Instinct alone had called her to it, caused her to smell it, taste it, and thus she had learned to eat and drink.

After the _pain inducing others_ came and left, her dark chamber was filled with a gentle whirring noise and both she and the chamber would be clean then her food and drink would arrive.

She would have a period of forgetting then her eyes would open, and she would find she was feeling less pain. What she was not aware of was that her handlers would give her a drug in her dinner and after she fell asleep, they would heal the worst of her injuries. A humane service Onexi provided to help increase the longevity of his performers.

All Kathryn knew now was that her food and drink had not appeared at the appointed time and while she felt the oversight surely meant something, she had no ability or frame of reference to determine what it meant.

Just as she resolved that she would go to bed hungry, the portal of light appeared and an _other_ stepped in. This one did not come bearing her food and drink and this was completely out of the ordinary and caused her to take become more alert. That is when she realized for the first time, this _other_ seemed to resemble her.

Curiosity is also a very basic affliction and though it has been said to have bested the cat, it is also what drove humanity to explore the stars.

That is what drove her to stand from her pallet and step out of the darkness into the light cast into her small existence so this _other_ could see her and she him. Adrenaline surged into her bloodstream as her eyes matched the symbol on his face to the one in her mind that she had been tracing sometimes in her own blood, with her fingers on every surface. Finally, she had carved that symbol into her arm with a small metal shard she had found on the floor. She did so in order to not forget it. It had scarred in perfect red lines that matched those on this _other’s_ face.

She showed this _other_ the mark on her arm and it was on that thirtieth day of darkness someone called her by her right name.

"Kathryn?"

She had no way of knowing that he was addressing her by name. She took a step towards him at the gentle sound of his voice and because of the marking. When more _others_ joined him, she retreated to the edge of the shadows. She'd experienced this scene before, where multiple _others_ had come for a performance. It wasn't one she ever cared to repeat.

"Kathryn, come to me."

She hesitated at his outstretched arm. Those lines on his face kept drawing her back to him. They meant something and he looked like she did. The two _others_ with him looked like her, too. They matched. She wanted badly to trust him, to leave with him through the portal of light, but she knew nothing beyond the small room she had occupied for the last thirty days.

"Kathryn. I know you're afraid. But we've come to take you home. Please, come with me."

"Sir, we've got to move, " one of the _others_ urged, checking the tricorder and glancing down the corridor.

She continued to try to formulate a decision with the little information she had but reasoned that these _others_ were here for her, they were keeping the portal of light open for her. She belonged to them and that life couldn't be as bad beyond the portal of light because it is where the food came from. And the lines on the face of the one _other_ were important because she remembered them. All of these were the reasons she took a leap of faith and finally rushed to the arms of the _other_ with the face lines. The moment he wrapped his arm around her, Kathryn felt the safest she could ever remember feeling and she knew she wanted to go anywhere he went. She didn’t protest when he slid a cuff around her arm.

She couldn't help the tremble in her body as they stepped into the light on the other side of the portal and they were somewhere altogether different. She tried to remember everything as the _other_ with the lines pulled her along away from the dark place. She felt that familiar fight or flight feeling flood her body and she was no longer being pulled along, but running with him and the two _others_ that were with him. They were running from that dark room and every step made her feel better for her choice to leave with them.

And then they were out of the light and into darkness again only this dark was different. It was cold, the air felt wet, and pinpoints of light seemed to punctuate the dark. There were tall structures around them, and the ground was cool and damp against her feet. She couldn't make sense of the wide, open space, the fact that there were no walls or ceiling surrounding them that she could see. It felt big, open, exposed, and frightening. Nevertheless, she continued running, aware that they were on alert. Then a streak of light grazed her shoulder and she let out a cry. It was hot and burned like a device that had been used on her once in the dark room to keep her inside as she tried to leave.

The lined _other_ shoved her down behind one of the structures and suddenly he and his companions were lighting up the dark with streaks of light exchanged with more _others_. She tucked her head between her knees and covered her ears to block out the noise. She was overwhelmed and her limited knowledge simply couldn't make sense of what was happening. Part of her wanted to run back to the dark room. At least when she was there, she knew what to expect. This new place with these new _others_ was terrifying.

But before she could try to return to her room the lined _other_ paused to check the place where the light had grazed her shoulder. He seemed relieved for a moment then took her by the hand and they were running once again. They ran into the night until her lungs burned, and her legs ached. She observed as the tall structures were replaced by vegetation and they quickly became surrounded by a forest. Though Kathryn couldn't recall ever having seen such a place, she decided she liked it better than the other places she had been beyond her dark, small room.

As they moved deeper into the forest, they slowed their pace. Maybe they were nearing where they belonged? Maybe the feeling of fear would subside? As they walked along, the lined _other_ took off one of the layers he was wearing and draped it over her shoulders, and she was grateful for the warmth: not only from his gift but that it made her even more certain she belonged to him.

Kathryn shied behind him as they reached their camp. There were more _others_ here and some looked different. Cautiously she took stock of their group. There was the large _other_ with the lines, the large _other_ that was similar looking without lines, the _other_ with hair the color of light, then these new _others_ included two that were about her size: one _other_ with bumps on her forehead and a second _other_ with the light hair, but this one had something above her eye similar in color to the shard of metal she'd used to carve the lines into to her arm. They all made strange sounds and noises at one another. The sounds had a familiarity to them, like she should remember them, but couldn't.

Kathryn once only knew five things about her existence. Now, she knew more than she could make sense of or begin to unravel the meaning of However, one thing was paramount to her: the lines did mean something. **Her** _others_ had found her and even though she felt frightened at having no way of knowing what that meant, she liked how it felt when the lined _other_ had his arm around her or held her hand, and she felt safe. That feeling alone was worth everything risked by leaving her dark room.


	2. I Will Help You to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relief wasn’t great enough of a word to encapsulate how he felt when she suddenly rushed into his arms. Now, that he had her, he wasn't letting go of her until they were safely back on Voyager.

Thirty Day Ago

“Commander, I just lost the Captain’s signal!” Harry announced with an edge of panic in his tone.

Harry’s words echoed in his brain deafeningly like cymbals crashing on both sides of his head. “Get the rest of our people the hell out of there! Beam them to sickbay!" he demanded, turning to face the young man who furiously worked his console.

"Transport in progress… I have everyone but the Captain.”

"Is her signal bouncing like the others were?" he asked. She couldn't have just disappeared into thin air.

Beads of sweat were breaking out on Harry Kim's brow as he remodulated the sensors and reconfigured the transporters targeting scanners. "Yes, Sir. Do you want me to track it?" He already knew the answer and didn't wait for the affirmative before programming the sensors.

"Tom, you have the bridge. Sam?" He was already on his way to the turbo left and the nervous mother quickly joined him.

The ride was too quiet as the lift quickly descended through the ship. He had been afraid something would go wrong. Onexi had wanted Kathryn badly enough to trade her for five others. He had to have suspected subterfuge and this time their tech from the Alpha Quadrant had been outpaced. They had underestimated their adversary, a mistake he certainly would not make in the future.

As he entered Sickbay, he was relieved to see that none of the captives were injured. Of course, they hadn't been held for very long, either. Both were blessings in and of themselves, thanks to Kathryn and her quick thinking. Perhaps that also meant they could find and recover her, as well, before anything happened to her.

Naomi quickly disengaged herself from Seven's grip and leapt into her worried mother's arms. “Mom!”

“Naomi! I was so afraid. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

"It’s okay, mom, I'm fine. Seven kept me safe. They wanted to separate us, but she told them she would assimilate them if they touched me. I think they were afraid of her.''

While Samantha thanked Seven for protecting her daughter, Chakotay turned to _Voyager’s_ Chief of Security. "Tuvok, what went wrong on the surface? How did the Captain become separated from the group?" he asked.

"The Captain exited the field of space within the pattern enhancers," he replied.

"Did she indicate why?"

"No. She appeared to be following something or someone into the crowd. As I attempted to intercept her, I was blocked by patrons to the market and could not reach her without breaking the formation. I lost sight of the Captain and could not relocate her before transport."

"We cannot detect the transponder she had surgically implanted. I am concerned that they have been neutralized. Tuvok, I want you to run a series of security drills. Prepare a tactical plan for me should this become a fight.”

“Yes, Commander." Tuvok was aware of the affection the Commander harbored for the Captain. He also knew that the Captain wouldn't want their journey back to the Alpha Quadrant put on hold indefinitely if their rescue mission were to begin looking grim. But he kept his counsel. He knew also that the Commander was a man of honor and dedication and he wouldn't yet be receptive of any suggestion that meant possibly accepting the loss of Kathryn Janeway and moving on with their journey. Tuvok, himself, wasn't ready to accept that possibility, but he couldn’t negate the fact that it was a possibility they might face, eventually.

Chakotay then turned to B’Elanna. "What can you tell me about our _friends_ down there?" he asked, emphasizing his sarcastic tone on the word friends. At this point, Onexi and the Allusians had just acquired the rank of Enemy Number One in his book.

"Other than the fact that they are some twisted bastards, which I am betting you already know?” she asked.

“They have the Captain, so enlighten me."

“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you much. They kept me contained in a dark cell, but before they moved me there, I did manage to hack into their database. It’s a prison of sorts, but I couldn't tell you if it’s even located on the planet.”

"We've learned that the Prime Minister is some kind of trafficker. He scans ships databases to determine what their needs are then he caters to them specifically. He takes payment for his services by abducting and trafficking people from the crew."

"So that’s why there was a schedule attached to each of the occupied cells. I wonder exactly what type of performances he was selling tickets for," she mused, and, at his dark expression, she wished she hadn’t mentioned it.

Chakotay felt himself turn a bit green about the gills when thinking about Kathryn connected to performing and as he already knew it wouldn't involve her portraying a dying swan.

"Did you learn anything about their computer system that would help you to hack into it remotely?"

B’Elanna shook her head. "Again, not very much. There just wasn’t time. The system is very sophisticated. I didn't get very far before I was caught and I’m not even certain I was into any restricted systems. What I got into may have been their scheduling system for these performances. It might be how potential buyers preview what Onexi is selling?"

"I want you to work with Harry and Seven. We aren't leaving here without the Captain. Find a way to break their encryption."

"Commander, this is a sickbay, not a conference room,” the Doctor suddenly interjected, annoyed that his domain was being usurped for anything besides medicine.

"My apologies, Doctor. Are your patients clear to leave?"

"Yes, of course. Everyone has been given a clean bill of health."

“Good, let’s get to work!” he ordered, sending them all in their separate directions.

 

Twenty-Three Days Ago

“B’Elanna, blow out a couple of plasma conduits if you have to, fry some relays. Make it look good." It wasn't the first time that he had given the order to intentionally sabotage his own ship, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He knew Tuvok didn’t like the idea of intentionally crippling them, but none of the tactical options he had prepared had the creativity Chakotay had suspected they might need, and that moment had arrived.

He had initially bought them an extra week in orbit when he had offered Onexi schematics for some insignificant pieces of technology that he'd been all too happy to have. Neelix had helped them by sweetening the deal by offering up some rare alloys he still had on his vessel from his scavenger days. This had given them time to secret Tom onto the planet disguised as an Allusian. They also had time to work out the social structure and B'Elanna had been able to insert him onto the family tree of some minor, but still influential dignitary from a continent opposite of Onexi’s.

In studying their economic and political system. They had learned that on Allusia, being able to trace one’s family lineage was paramount to one’s success and politics. It was how Onexi managed to rule both the planet and the dark underworld. His family lineage, according to the official records, could be traced back to the first recorded records. It made his family house the oldest, therefore he was considered descended from all the knowledge that ever was, thus the correct person to sit in their highest seat of government. Further, it meant he controlled the economy. Unfortunately, he discovered a vast, untapped resource in the dark market and used all his wealth and influence to keep his dabbling a secret. Dishonesty and depravity were cardinal sins on the planet, and they had previously unseated even older family dynasties.

Once a family was unseated, their lineage was wiped from the historical archives as the ultimate punishment and they became nobodies without a history, condemned to the lowest tier of society, not much higher than vermin. The next oldest family became the “oldest officially”. Wealth, technology and connections were the only things keeping Onexi’s devious and deplorable enterprise a float. The man was a technological and genetic genius, according to the records. His research that predated his political days had cured hundreds of diseases, had developed genetic resistance in his people so that sickness was virtually unheard of. He also had been a pioneer in reproductive gene sciences which permitted infertile couples to conceive offspring. This was particularly important since family was the key to everything. The stronger the family lineage, the better off the family was socially and politically.  

Tom had also done his fair bit while on the planet. He did what he was good at which was drink, have a good time, and get people to talk. He learned that Allusia was visited by traffickers from all over the galaxy who knew and profited from Onexi’s games. He had two operations. His first operation was acquiring and selling. Chances are, the fates of their five crew members would have included being sold to the highest bidder. Because of their quick action, particularly because of Kathryn’s quick negotiations and self-sacrifice, they weren’t chasing down fire different crewmembers with five different destinations.

Onexi’s more profitable operation that catered to his more exclusive clientele was his carnival. He kept his favorite acquisitions and performed them to death, literally.

Chakotay had been afraid to ask what that meant, and Tom had been hesitant to tell him that it included patrons buying an unrestricted hour of time with the performer to do as they pleased. Chakotay had wanted to vomit on both of their boots as he realized that Kathryn had been being sold by the hour for the last week.

Although the accounts were varied, Tom had also told him that the performers were affixed with an implant that suppressed or erased all their memories and allowed them to be programmed with personalities chosen by the purchaser. If that part was true, then it quite possibly meant that Kathryn wasn't even trying to attempt to escape.

"We're being hailed," Kim reported.

"On screen."

"Commander Chakotay, I must say I am quite concerned that you have overstayed our _generous_ time extension." Onexi's warning was clear behind his all-too friendly grin.

"My apologizes, Prime Minister. My Chief Engineer was trying to upgrade a few of our systems, but it seems several of the components were not exactly compatible. We have sustained significant damage and must make repairs before we depart," he pled, trying for his most sympathetic appeal while secretly wanting to smash the face of the vile man on the screen.

"Well I offer no warranty, refunds, or exchanges for non-compatible components purchased in my markets," he warned.

"Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of asking. It was entirely my engineer's fault for not properly analyzing the components to begin with.” He was glad B’Elanna was eleven decks beneath him otherwise he might have gotten a bat’leth to the spine for insulting her competence, ruse or no ruse.

"Maybe you would like to make trade of this Engineer, then? I’m sure I could find uses for her that don't require engineering competence."

Chakotay dropped a hand to Tom's shoulder when he saw the younger man twitch at the suggestion regarding his wife. "No, I'll keep her all the same.” He didn't know how he kept his cool himself, other than reminding himself Kathryn's life was at stake. “I would beg your indulgence for a while longer so we can make repairs. As you know, we are now understaffed."

"I can hardly believe the loss of one woman qualifies as 'understaffed', Commander."

"You have no idea," Tom muttered, drawing Onexi's eye.

"Our Captain was a proficient engineer and knew her ship well. Her loss does make our repair estimates longer."

"Repair your ship, Commander. If we must revisit this conversation in one week's time. I won't be so welcoming and pleasant."

Chakotay sighed when the channel was closed. “Okay. I bought us a week. I want all department heads to report to the conference room in one hour. Tuvok, you have the bridge."

Chakotay retreated to the Ready Room to compose himself and his thoughts before the staff meeting. He tried to review the reports that were piling up on her desk and did manage to affix his thumbprint to a few of them before giving up.

He mentally reviewed everything he knew up to that point about Allusia and Onexi. He wished there was something he was missing that could help them. Some breadcrumbs that Kathryn managed to leave them, but there was just nothing. The only thing they had was that the structure Onexi hailed from was a security fortress with refractive shielding and a cloak that concealed the entire city block, including subterranean. The man took his security very seriously. Or, perhaps his privacy. Their surveillance showed that it looked like nearly every other office building in the city except for the shielding and cloak. And, considering the crime he was involved in warranted the society's harshest punishment: decimation of the family lineage by erasing their history, Chakotay found it hard to believe he would be operating his dark market right in plain sight beneath his official office. Then again. Some of the best kept secrets were those that were hidden in plain sight.

And, the fact that Kathryn wasn’t likely trying to alert them, or escape, was a handicap. He had to hand it to her when it came to ingenuity. She was anything if not full of that. But if she had been equipped with this neural implant and didn’t even know who she was, he couldn't bank on her helping them to find her.

It irked him that after only a week Tuvok had broached the subject of accepting her loss. Some friend he was. Chakotay had clearly told him that since he was acting captain, he would decide the timetable by which they accepted her loss. If he ever figured out what kind of timetable included accepting her loss, he might be courteous enough to let the Vulcan know.

Sitting among her things in her Ready Room made him somehow feel closer to her. It helped rejuvenate him and clear his mind so he could think clearly. Of course, it also reminded him of her absence. Her scent lingered in the room and he couldn't help but think of her playful comment as she had left him in the turbolift, resigning him to this uncertainty. Had she been flirting with him as she had so many times before or had she been serious? The not knowing gnawed at him as badly as all the years of longing and missed opportunities between them. She had always averred but he had always lived with the anticipation of "someday" and it gutted him to consider that “someday" may now be “never."

The chronometer alerted him to the time, and he entered the bridge long enough to cross its distance to the conference room, hoping his staff had some ingenuity of their own to break this puzzle and retrieve their captain.

 

Present Day

Onexi had tipped his hand and driven them off with his superior force, just as he had promised after their extra week had expired.

 _Voyager_ had taken refuge in an uninhabited star system three light years out and was concealed from Onexi's long range scans by staying behind the system’s star.

Neelix and Tom had made a couple of covert trips back to the planet in his small vessel while Chakotay, B’Elanna, Ayala, and Seven had played shadow games with other trading ships and managed to set the Delta Flyer down inside an asteroid that had been captured in orbit of Allusia’s moon.

They had formulated a plan. Harry, B’Elanna and Seven had managed to determine that the repeating life signs signal contained one true point of origin. During one of Tom and Neelix’s visits to trade, they had dropped a series of probes on the planet’s surface that were able to scan the locations where Kathryn’s life signs reported from. They all reported negative findings except the one location they couldn't scan which was Onexi's office and the subterranean area below. Meanwhile B’Elanna had managed to locate plans in the planet’s archives for a subterranean prison. Seven was able to hack into the appointment network for the performers and found a single listing for "human-female" with a description matching Kathryn’s and scheduled them an appointment using Tom's Allusian alias and fake credits.

The final problem was the security field around the city. It could scan and track everyone within. They would all pile into Neelix’s small ship and he would discreetly drop them on the edge of the city, just beyond the reach of the security field. Those going inside the field for the rescue operation would all be equipped with tracking inhibitors, including Kathryn once they liberated her. Fortunately, the security field didn't extend into the wilderness beyond the city. Their best option was to liberate Kathryn and make a run for the woods where they would have a base camp setup. After dropping the team off, Neelix would hurry back to Voyager. Tuvok would bring Voyager into the system at warp, retrieve the team from the coordinates, then pick up the Delta Flyer from the moon before jumping to warp to leave the system.

Chakotay knew they were only going to get one chance at this, and he was determined they would be leaving this system with Kathryn. Nothing less was acceptable.

Cramped in Neelix's cargo hold with Tom, Ayala, B’Elanna, and Seven was an entirely new experience he found he wasn't in a hurry to repeat. The trip from the asteroid to the planet’s surface seemed to tick past in hours rather than in minutes.

Finally, they set down on the edge of the city, the closest spot for each of the teams to reach their destinations. B’Elanna and Seven were to set up the base camp and establish a transporter site for Tuvok. This meant setting up pattern enhancers and securing a perimeter.

"Good luck. I’ll see everyone back on _Voyager_ for dinner," Neelix said.

"Looking forward to it," Chakotay replied. And for the first time, he felt like he meant it. The last several days of light replicated fare and rations on the overcrowded Flyer made him ache for the comforts of _Voyager._

"Good luck, "B’Elanna said, accepting a hand squeeze from her husband.

"To us all." Tom replied.

They parted ways; their two teams dedicated to their mission. Chakotay was heartened by their dedication and devotion to their Captain. They all respected her, and, in a way, she was their guiding light. She set her course for home and they followed her because they believed in her. Their caravan of the lost just couldn't rightly go on without their leader. That’s why none of them had to be called on to risk everything to retrieve her. They'd all willingly volunteered.

Chakotay, Tom and Ayala took up surveillance outside Onexi's office.

"My sources told me he has a wife and daughter he likes to go home to every evening just before sunset."

"How charming," Mike deadpanned with an eyeroll at Tom.

Tom continued: "Seven booked our, ah, _performance_ for just after. I’m told that the entrance to the underground is inside what looks like a maintenance shed at the back of the building.''

They didn't have to wait long. Just as the sun began to dip, Onexi exited by the front of the office and entered a rather flashy looking ground transport.

 _Never underestimate your adversary_ , Chakotay thought at the man as the ground vehicle disappeared down the street and out of sight. He supposed it was fortunate for Onexi that he wasn't aware of Kathryn's condition at this point. Just the fact that his sick system of operating his planet had deprived them of her was enough for Chakotay to want to revisit his angry warrior days and take Onexi apart with his bare hands.

"There goes our man. Let’s go." Chakotay led the way around the back of the building. They had done their homework by dressing like the maintenance crew Tom had often seen on the grounds of different office buildings. Their plan was to get into the building with as little suspicion as possible.

"We don't know what to expect once we are inside so stay in tight formation. We don't want to become Onexi's next performers," Chakotay said as they came upon the maintenance shed.

Tom keyed in the code he was provided upon booking his performance and the door slid open to reveal that the inside was anything, but a storage shed. It looked like a small transporter room and it was clearly designed for one person.

"This could pose a problem." Tom said, overstating the obvious.

"I'll go," Chakotay decided. "Once I’m in, I will try to bring you down." He stepped into the chamber and touched the pad and felt the familiar tingle as the transporter took him from the small chamber to the secret location of Onexi's dark carnival: below his otherwise normal looking office building.

The first thing Chakotay noticed was that he was in a sort of waiting area and he wondered who, if anyone, would be arriving to take them to his appointment with Kathryn. The other thing that he noticed was that the room he was in was white, sterile, and bright, almost blindingly so. He tapped the console on the wall next to him and suddenly Ayala was standing next to him. Their plan was working. Tom joined them just as easily.

As soon as he surveyed his surroundings Tom snapped open his tricorder open his mouth slowly dropped.

“Talk to me, Tom," Chakotay encouraged, concerned about what the pilot might say.

"Commander, there are over 1,500 individual cells in this prison, nearly all of them are occupied. As best as I can tell, there are 75 waiting areas such as this one, each connected to 20 cells. I’m also detecting about 50 Allusians moving about in the corridors that connect the entire system."

"Have you located the Captain?" he asked, suddenly impatient to be moving on.

"My appointment directed me to chamber number thirteen, which I am detecting one human female life sign down the corridor beyond that door,” Tom reported, reading the display then pointing at the door. "I am also detecting an Allusion who appears to be distributing trays of food to the chambers. He's in the corridor beyond the bend."

"Let’s hope we can take him by surprise. Mike..." Chakotay directed him to take the point, then he followed with Tom at the rear. They went through the door into the corridor and approached the chamber where Kathryn was being held. "Tom, is there a direct way out of here?" he whispered. Transporting out one at a time was likely going to hinder their escape, especially if the Allusians fought back or some sort of security force showed up.

“There’s what looks like a service corridor that connects to a lift that will take us right to the street level of the building," he whispered back.

The Allusian came around the corner just as Tom keyed in the code to chamber thirteen and the door opened. Mike easily stunned the Allusian who never seen it coming. Unfortunately, an alarm began twittering as soon as the weapon was discharged.

"The other Allusions are some distance away scattered throughout this prison, but I imagine we'll be seeing them or a security force soon," Tom warned, watching his tricorder.

Stepping into the chamber, Chakotay felt relieved to finally lay eyes on Kathryn after so long, but that relief was instantly replaced with a riptide of anger at her condition. He swallowed the heat burning within his chest, forcing himself to remain calm.

Tom had warned him that all his reports indicated that she would be the equivalent of a feral human because the implant would suppress and erase her memories, identity, basic skills, language, everything, until only her most basic animal instincts remained. That was something they would deal with. What infuriated him was what he could see of her body, revealed by the thin, tan colored slip she wore. She had severe bruises in several spots, scars in more places than he had time to count, and a disturbing number of the scars looked like bite marks. She also stood at an odd angle and he wondered exactly how many of her bones had been broken and left to poorly healed.

And then she showed him her arm. A rather precise looking copy of his tattoo had been scarred into her arm, cut there by some implement and he realized it must have been self-inflicted. She carved his tattoo into her arm because she had remembered it. Somehow, she had remembered.

“Kathryn?"

His heart lurched at how she hesitated, at how large and fearful her eyes were. He couldn't imagine what she must have been thinking or feeling at that moment.

"Kathryn, come to me." He reached for her willing her to come within his reach. He knew that they were running out of time and as sick as it made him, he didn’t want to force the issue and frighten her any further. He surmised she had experienced a lot of force and fright and he didn’t want to inflict that upon her, though he knew he might have to effectuate her rescue.

"Kathryn, I know you're afraid, but we've come to take you home. Please come with me." He tried to keep the anxiousness out of his voice, willed calm over himself so that was what he conveyed to her. If she was only equipped with basic animalistic instincts, anxiety wouldn’t do anything but alarm her.

Relief wasn’t great enough of a word to encapsulate how he felt when she suddenly rushed into his arms. Now, that he had her, he wasn't letting go of her until they were safely back on _Voyager_. He quickly slid the inhibitor cuff around her arm and guided her along as they began their run for freedom.

Tom led the way through the corridors while Mike stunned a few Allusions along the way.  Chakotay was only concerned about keeping Kathryn by his side. He tried to ignore how bony her shoulders felt, or the way her spine felt through the slip dress when he placed his hand on her back to guide her as they moved quickly to make their escape.

When they reached street level, he expected a security force to be waiting, but they beat them by a few minutes. Tom paused at the exit to the building. “I’m exposing this disgusting little operation of Onexi's," he said as he punched a few codes into his tricorder then interfaced with the panel at the door. “There, the cloak is down and the chambers all just opened."

"Well done, Lieutenant,” Chakotay praised as they took off running.

"Hey, you can't be married to my wife and not pick up a few tricks," he replied wryly. Exposure of his black-market connections would be a small penance for Onexi to pay, but Chakotay knew he was not able to deliver the real punishment he wanted to give the man. He forced the thought to the back of his head, concentrating on Kathryn and her struggle to keep up with them.

The exchange of fire with the security force they encountered cut off his desire for vengeance on Kathryn's behalf. He saw the beam lash out and lick her shoulder, sending her to the ground. Unfortunately, he first had to deal with the fire exchange, believing her to only have suffered a minor injury. When it was over, his belief was confirmed, but his heart had broken to see how she cowered with her hands over her ears. His once bold, fearless Captain had been reduced to a terrified mess of a shell of the woman she had been.

He couldn't focus on that now. He tried not to think about how much pain she was in while running at his side. He tried not to think about what she had endured. Instead, he focused on getting her into the woods where B'Elanna and Seven were waiting and where _Voyager_ would extract them from this miserable trap of a planet.

When they finally arrived at the transport site, he gave Kathryn his jacket knowing she must have been chilled in the cool air. She seemed attached to him at the hip and was reluctant to lose physical contact with him. It was a cruel joke that here she was, not of her right mind and having suffered intolerable amounts of trauma and she couldn’t keep her hands off him. But that was another thing he didn’t want to think about as he finally convinced her to release his hand so Tom could give her a once over with the medical tricorder.

By the time Tom finished, he was looking a little green and Chakotay was afraid to ask, even as Kathryn reattached herself to his person by taking his hand and sliding in close, seeking his warmth.

"I don't even know where to begin. The Doctor will have to have a look at the implant at the base of her skull and determine how to remove it and if her memory can be restored.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “From what I can tell, she has a couple of viral infections in her system that should be able to be purged by the transporter buffers. What can't be, the Doc can take care of. As for her physical injuries, she has been sexually assaulted numerous times and there are some severe injuries related to those assaults. Other injuries look like they were repaired with sophisticated medical technology but only to a degree so as not to cause further injury. Most seem to have been left only partially healed. I am counting scar tissue in various states of formation from approximately 230 dermal injuries. She has recently sustained a punctured lung, which looks like it was the third occurrence of such an injury, based on recent scarring. She has a bruised liver and kidney. As for broken bones, she has a hairline skull fracture, all her fingers and toes have been broken at one point or another, two broken teeth, five broken ribs, a fractured pelvis, a broken left femur, a fractured right ulna, and multiple muscle tears. All her injuries are in various state of poor healing. Additionally, she is severely malnourished. I believe her meals have consisted of merely water and grain meal. She has a protein deficiency as well as being deficient in nearly every other essential vitamin and mineral."

The more injuries Tom counted, the more Chakotay revisited the number of ways he wanted to inflict the same and more upon Onexi. In his mind's eye, he could envision himself taking the man apart, piece by piece. His heart rate ticked up. As Tom had reported on her condition, Kathryn had laid her head on his shoulder and seemed to doze but stirred as though she sensed the influx of hatred and rage in him. He took a steadying breath, focusing himself on controlling his temper and, as he pushed back the emotions cascading through him, she seemed to calm again then returned her head to his shoulder and started to doze. He was glad for that and he wondered when the last time was that she had felt safe enough to close her eyes.

It was only about an hour later when Ayala's voice startled him and Chakotay realized he had dozed off as well.

"Sir, we may have a problem."

"What’s going on, Mike? "he asked, rousing Kathryn from her sleep.

“'It looks as though they are converging on our location."

Chakotay looked at the display on Ayala’s tricorder. The planet's security force seemed to be trying to pinpoint their location. They had surrounded the woods and established a search pattern that was allowing them to eliminate areas from their search field while closing in on the center of that field rather quickly.

"They haven't found us, yet, but it won’t be long before they do," B'Elanna warned as she adjusted the settings on their cloak and boosted the pattern enhancers, hoping to give Tuvok a little more range.

“By my calculations, _Voyager_ should arrive in the next fifteen minutes,'' Seven reported.

"We might not have fifteen minutes," Tom replied, watching his own tricorder.

"We will just have to hold them off,'' Chakotay decided. He unholstered his phaser and felt Kathryn shiver as she eyed the weapon warily. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "I’m going to keep you safe. I just need you to trust me, Kathryn.”

She reached up between them and gently touched the tattoo on his forehead, tracing the lines. He offered her a reassuring smile before taking her hand and turning over her arm and touching the red scarred lines she had carved there, never losing eye contact with her. She gave a slight smile as she placed her other hand on top of his, over the scar.

Chakotay understood. She had decided that because she had remembered his tattoo, that must mean that she belonged to him. It was as reasonable an explanation as any other and would account for the fact that she absolutely refused to part from his side. For now, he didn't feel the need to try to reason with her or to attempt to explain. She never would have understood, and it was easier for him to protect her if she stayed close to his side anyway.

"Five minutes until they intercept us," Ayala called out the warning.

"Take cover, everyone," he ordered, then moved himself and Kathryn so a large boulder was at their backs and a tree was to their left side. Now he only had to be concerned with defending them from those to the right and straight in front of them when they showed their ugly faces. He crouched down, tucking Kathryn into the space between himself and the rock and tree. She didn't protest and attempted to make herself as small as possible, almost disappearing in the tall grass and weeds that surrounded them.

He heard the first exchange of fire to his left on the other side of the tree and saw the night illuminate up as Ayala brought down the first of the Allusian forces that arrived at their location. Kathryn crouched even lower in the grass and he nearly lost sight of her out of the corner of his eye.

Chakotay faltered when Onexi himself stepped into the clearing. He didn’t have a clear shot otherwise he knew he would have clicked off the stun setting on his phaser and taken it. He felt Kathryn shift at his side, peering out of the grass and seeing Onexi. He pulled a small device out of his pocket and tapped a couple of commands into it and Chakotay felt Kathryn drop at his side with a shriek. When he looked over, she was curled into the fetal position with her head in her hands.

"You have taken my property," Onexi called out, calmly. "Return her or I will kill her."

"You son of a bitch,” Chakotay bellowed, unable to stop himself.

Onexi turned, his eyes settling on the large, tan-skinned man.

"Commander Chakotay, what a surprise. I thought I had made myself clear that you were no longer welcome here."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seven moving into a strategic position and that the other guards were currently occupied with Paris, Torres, and Ayala. He had to keep Onexi talking so he didn’t see Seven coming.

"I just came back for what’s rightfully mine," he retorted.

Onexi's eyes narrowed. "Your Captain? If I recall, she made a fair trade of herself for the other five. A deal concluded. She belongs to me. I want her back or I will kill her."

"That doesn't sound like a prudent financial decision, Onexi. " He hoped Kathryn stayed hidden from view as much as possible, despite her screams giving away her location. Luckily, they seemed to bounce off of the boulder and echo in a way that pinpointing her exact location would be delayed.

Onexi tapped the remote a couple of times, eliciting another shriek from her. “A minor loss, there will be others to take her place. Though, I have to say she was delightful. I don’t think I have ever felt a woman with such soft skin beneath me before. Of course, you must know the pleasures of her body, too. Why else would you fight so hard to get her back?”

Chakotay’s blood was on fire, red rimmed his eyes, and he felt rage pouring into his blood the likes he hadn’t felt since accosting a Cardassian raping one of the women from his village. He had killed that man with his bare hands. It had been quick. Merciful by comparison. Onexi, on the other hand, he wanted to kill slowly, deliberately, and every instance of pain he inflicted upon Kathryn with the remote merely reinforced that notion. Learning that he hadn’t just sold Kathryn but had assaulted her himself was more than he could handle. The only thing that saved Onexi was that Chakotay knew attacking Onexi would leave Kathryn vulnerable and exposed, and he refused to risk her being taken captive again.

"You have caused me a great deal of upset, Commander, but let me tell you the results of your meddling. Those hapless souls you attempted to liberate and your attempts to expose me have failed. I built that location with an evacuation plan. Everything below ground level has been evacuated, incinerated and destroyed. So, you see, over fifteen hundred lives obliterated because of your meddling, including some of my own people."

Chakotay knew he was baiting him, and he refused to take it. "From what I saw, you probably showed them mercy by killing them."

Onexi sneered. “It doesn't change anything. I will rebuild at another location and will be back in operation within the month. So, what have you accomplished? Nothing beyond the death of fifteen hundred souls." Onexi tapped his remote again and his eyes narrowed, fingers hovering against the pain inducing button. “And, one more..."

Before he could press the button. Seven was on him. She wrapped her arms around him and injected his throat with a dose of nanoprobes and kicked the remote from his reach when it dropped from his hand.

"What... what have you done..." Onexi demanded, dropping to his knees as the nanoprobes attacked him from within, pain suddenly enveloping him from the inside out. He turned as he fell over onto his side and found himself staring up at Seven. "You Borg bitch," he cursed.

Chakotay watched as the Borg tech painfully asserted itself over Onexi’s body without a shred of sympathy. It was a small taste of that which he had inflicted upon others and he was most deserving of it and far more.

It was then that he felt the phaser lifted from the holster on his hip where he had placed it when Onexi had fallen. Kathryn stood at his side, pointing the device at her former captor.

"Kathryn," he said gently, trying to distract her, noticing the device had been set to kill.

Onexi laughed at her. "You can kill me, but you will never be rid of me. You will always remember that I owned you and I was in your body, then sold you like the whore that you are."

Kathryn didn't understand his words, but she understood their meaning from his tone. She remembered him from the number of times he had victimized her. He had been a regular to her cell and she seemed to know that he was the cause of it all because, besides the lines, he was the first _other_ she remembered. Her first memory was him striking her with the whip, then pushing her down on the ground and victimizing her. She understood from the behavior of those around her that he was the enemy. Beyond that, she understood nothing more and didn't need to. She pressed the button on the device as she had seen the lined faced _other_ do and the streak of light jumped forward from the device and freed her forever from her captor.

Before he could react. Chakotay felt the tingle of _Voyager’s_ transporter beam sweep them up.

When his vision returned, he saw Kathryn drop the phaser. He quickly swiped it from her reach with his foot, so she didn't grab for it out of fear. He didn't need to. She was instantly at his side, gripping his shirt and looking around as she trembled. The sudden change in scenery had frightened her.

"Beam the Captain and myself to sickbay,'' he ordered.

The sudden change in scenery again frightened her and when they rematerialized, she was shaking uncontrollably.

"Kathryn, it’s okay," he spoke in controlled tones.

"Commander, see if you can get her to sit on one of the biobeds," the Doctor requested, realizing the sensitive nature of the situation. He had been briefed but he hadn't been truly prepared for the condition of _Voyager’s_ Captain.

Chakotay guided her to one of the beds and carefully lifted her to sit upon it, then stepped back from her. She reached for him with a pleading look on her face and it tore him up inside not to answer her plea, but he knew the Doctor needed space to work.

"My God," the Doctor whispered, cataloguing the list of injuries his tricorder reported back to him as he devised a treatment plan.

He took careful scans of the implant at the base of her skull. He knew he could remove it. However, treating the effects of it were going to prove much more difficult and would require a significant amount of recovery time.

“I’m going to have to do surgery and I can repair nearly all of her injuries while she's unconscious. As for her neurological damage and forced amnesia, those are going to require several procedures and significant recovery time."

"I understand, Doctor."

"See if you can get her to lie down and I'll sedate her and get started."

Chakotay stepped closer to the bed, which seemed to alleviate some of Kathryn’s concerns about the space between them. "The Doctor is going to take good care of you, Kathryn, but he has to be able to work.” He guided her to lay on her back and his heart broke as tears began seeping from the corners of her eyes as she forced herself to assume a spread-eagle position on the bed. His stomach twisted in knots as he realized she was readying herself to be raped.

"No, no," he whispered, unable to stop the tears that welled up in his own eyes. He took her hands and placed them on her chest then slowly moved to return her feet together rather than stretched far apart. “No one is going to hurt you like that ever again, Kathryn," he promised as she gazed at him questioningly through glistening eyes.

She never saw the Doctor come around the head of her bed, only felt him as he injected the hypospray of sedative into her throat. Her eyes drifted closed, sending the tears that had gathered there down her cheeks in streaks. She never had a chance to put up a fight.

“Commander. I’ll call you the moment she wakes," the Doctor gently urged him out of his way so he could work.

"Doctor, there’s a self-inflicted scar on her wrist that matches my tattoo. I want you to leave it for now. I think that it is significant to her and, in her current state, I don't want to hurt her trust in us by removing it," he said flatly, feeling deflated by what had just transpired.

"I understand, Commander."

Without another word, Chakotay left sickbay. He knew he should have checked in with Tuvok but, instead, he had to clear his head. He decided on a trip to the holodeck so he could work out some of his pent-up rage at Onexi and his emotions on the heavy bag for a while.

***

_"Doctor to Commander Chakotay."_

He had just stepped out of the sonic shower and it took him a moment to locate his comm badge and retrieve it from the shirt he had discarded in a pile on the floor.

“Go ahead Doctor."

_"I have healed the Captain's injuries, rid her of a couple nasty viruses, and removed the implant. I have also repaired a great deal of the neurological damage caused by their barbaric device.”_

"How is she doing? Can I speak to her?" he asked as he hurriedly pulled on a fresh uniform, wincing at the soreness in his hands from having pummeled a holographic representation of Onexi after he heavy bag had failed to reduce his anger.

_“You can. However, I have not yet been able to restore her memory."_

"Why not?" Chakotay asked, zipping his uniform and a fixing the comm badge to his chest. He paused for a quick look in the mirror before heading out of his quarters towards sickbay.

_"It's a very complex procedure and I wanted to give her brain and the surrounding areas time to heal before making the attempt."_

"Understood, Doctor. I'll be there shortly. Chakotay out." He was disappointed that she wasn't yet back to _his_ Kathryn. He missed her and he wanted to talk to her. Sure, he could talk to her, but it wasn't the same as her when she was of her right mind and able to respond.

When he arrived in sickbay, she was sitting on the bio bed, awake, taking in her surroundings. He felt a prickle of anger at how shrunken she still seemed from having been so badly mistreated. That prickle was tempered when she smiled slightly, almost shyly, at him.

"Ah, Commander, as you can see, she does appear to be much better and she shouldn't be experiencing any pain. I won't horrify you with the exhaustive list of injuries I repaired, but let’s just say, they were substantial. I have also corrected her nutritional deficiencies and cured her of a rather nasty virus that the pattern buffers didn’t filter out," the Doctor reported. “Since the virus was not of an airborne nature, I don’t believe we need to be concerned about anyone else having been exposed.”

"Good work," Chakotay praised, summoning as much enthusiasm as he could, under the circumstances.

"In approximately a week, I will attempt the procedure to restore her of her memory. I do have to warn you, Commander, she will also retain all her memories from her time on the planet. I don't know what kind of psychological effect that may have on her."

He had been thinking about the very same thing, also concerned how she would deal with what had happened to her once she was herself again. He didn’t want to discuss the possibilities now. "Can I take her to her quarters?" he asked instead.

"Sure. She could use a good meal. And, I am sure she would be more comfortable with a shower and something else to wear."

"Thank you, Doctor.” To Kathryn, who had sat quietly on the bio bed observing them, he asked: "Would you like to come with me?" He reached out his hand to her and she seemed to understand because she slid down from the bed and took his hand.

It was a peculiar feeling, walking through the corridors of the ship holding her hand, but not an unwelcome feeling. The crew smiled as they passed them, but no one seemed to notice or be alarmed at the sight of their commanding officers walking together with their hands entwined. Though they had not all been briefed of the full details as to what had transpired, they were aware that she had experienced a memory wipe of sorts by her captors.

He faced a bit of a dilemma when deciding where to take her. He had thought about taking her to his quarters but if she was, indeed, operating utilizing her most basic animal instincts, she would most certainly pick up on the fact that they were in his territory and he didn’t want her to believe she was supposed to be submissive to him. Her quarters were the most appropriate choice and she might feel more comfortable surrounded by the familiar, even if she didn’t remember.

His instincts were right on the mark. As soon as they entered her quarters, she stepped a bit ahead of him, dropping his hand as she approached the star view beyond the viewport. She stood before the couch, staring at the stars, as he had seen her do so many times in the past. He watched her as she moved about the room, looking at knickknacks and other trinkets she had replicated or picked up along their journey.

"Are you hungry, Kathryn? I imagine you probably are. How about a glass of red wine and some mushroom risotto?" He knew she wouldn’t answer him and that she couldn’t understand him, but he didn't want to spend the entire time silent. He decided it might help her to feel comfortable if he talked to her. He had been told long ago that he had a soothing voice.

It only took a few moments for him to whip up the meal and set the table. He’d kept an eye on her as she had wandered about the room, occasionally stopping to pick up objects and finger them over. As he readied their meal, he missed when she picked up a particular book and opened it, touching the pages as though the words would suddenly mean something.

When he finished, he saw her holding her precious copy of Dante's Inferno. He smiled wryly at the coincidences. Dante's descent into madness could definitely be likened to what she was likely experiencing. Being Kathryn Janeway yet not knowing herself must have been its own brand of hell for her.

"That's your favorite," he told her. "I enjoyed reading it when you lent it to me. I could have looked it up in the database, but you are correct that part of the experience is in the smell and feel of an old book." Chakotay stepped towards her and held his hand out for the book. He knew she would never forgive herself if something happened to it. She quickly handed it to him and dropped her head in submission.

"You hadn't done anything wrong, Kathryn.” he told her, setting the book back on the shelf where she picked it up from. “But it is time for dinner." He took her hand and she looked up, but it wasn’t a look that he was familiar with. She looked empty yet pleading for understanding. He led her to the table and seated her then served her a glass of wine and a helping of the risotto.

Chakotay should have known that they wouldn’t be having anything close to what a normal dinner would be. Having her back with him, it was almost too easy to forget her deficiencies. He couldn't help but chuckle a little when she dug into her meal with both hands. He couldn't avoid finding amusement in seeing his normally prim and proper Captain diving into her meal like a toddler who hadn't eaten in days.

He watched as she ate and gulped the synthehol wine like a starving person. Others might have been turned off or disgusted, but knowing that she'd just lived through hell, she deserved to eat her first real meal in any manner she desired. In his observations, he could ascertain that she was, indeed, behaving like a typical animal the way she guarded her food and ate. He also decided that due to the way she chugged the wine, he would be quickly switching her to water.

"What did he do to you, Kathryn? I wish you could tell me what happened to you," he said as she finished and gazed up at him, almost as though just remembering that he was there. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

She followed him into the bathroom and quietly watched as he drew her a bath. She didn’t understand this place of light. These people were like her. This place was where she was supposed to be. Even though the images she saw in the silver surrounds were of herself, confirming her belief, somehow, deep inside, she also knew this was where she belonged. The lined _other_ was the key, or so she felt. She remembered the lines so that must have meant something. And even if it meant nothing at all, no one hurt her here. At least not yet and that had to mean something, too.

She waited and watched as he readied the room for something and felt nervous. She had no frame of reference as to why she should feel nervous. If she had been hurt by them, her nervousness would make sense, but they hadn't treated her that way at all.

Chakotay turned to her again to find her watching him and he realized the dilemma. He couldn't leave her to her own devices, yet he wasn’t sure he could move forward and do what needed to be done. He felt strangely as though he were violating her privacy.

"Kathryn, let me help you." She shied away as his hands found the fasteners, but she didn’t run. Just the way she instinctively jerked away at his reach made his gut clench. “I won't hurt you," he whispered, for what it was worth.

When the medical gown fell away, a tear rolled down her cheek and she began to tremble uncontrollably as she stood before him, nude. His heart ripped in two, only being able to surmise what she'd been through from the Cardassian victims he had seen: women who couldn't stand to be touched again, even by their husbands, and men who saw nothing but red and had hearts that screamed for retribution at such a violation of their person.

Chakotay didn’t bother to strip down. He took her in his arms, and she shrieked and thrashed against him. He didn't hesitate. He toed off his boots and socks and got into the tub with her, fully clothed.

“Kathryn, it’s okay. Please, it's okay," he tried to calm her, and she stilled in the warm water in his arms. “I wish you could understand that I'm not going to hurt you."

His voice was soothing. It wasn’t like the _others_ who were unlike herself. He was soft, gentle, and he still hadn't hurt her. This was nice, just sitting in the warmth of the waters, with his arms wrapped around her. Fear converged with feeling safe and it made her feel peculiar. She carefully pulled away and this time he let her. She turned to him, in the tub built for two, and looked at him. He didn't have the look about his eyes like the _pain inflicting_ _others_. Tentatively, she reached up with her arm bearing the lined scar and used her fingers to trace the matching lines on his forehead, like she had on the planet.

"You remembered my tattoo," he said, quietly. He took her hand and brought her arm down so he could trace her matching scar, repeating his actions on the planet that had seemed to solidify her trust in him.

She smiled softly, shyly. It meant something; she knew it did. Like before, he had responded in kind and she had been made to feel safe, like she belonged. Repeating the gestures calmed her, reminded her that she was, indeed, safe with him.

"Somehow, through everything, this was what you remembered.," he said. He took her hand and held it to his chest. "Trust me." He stood up slowly in the tub and she watched him with wide-eyed attention as he unzipped then shucked the wet uniform, slinging it over the side of the tub. Next, he removed both the turtleneck and tank. He wanted to show her he trusted her and that they were equals, but he didn't want to frighten her.

If she were Kathryn in her right mind, this never would have been happening. He felt terribly about the invasion of her privacy, but it was an extraordinary situation. He could have tossed her into the sonic shower but hadn't wanted to frighten her. This was more about building basic trust with her and little about sex.

Slowly, he shucked his pants and briefs and she slid to the far side of the tub and made herself small, but she didn't leap out of the tub. "Now we are the same," he told her then sat back in the water. This wasn't exactly how he had pictured being nude with her the first time, but he also knew this was the extent of what would occur this evening and, on any evening, hence until she was herself again, if even then.

Once he had removed his covering, she had expected him to attack her. That’s how it happened with the _others._ She figured she belonged to him and he could do what he wanted to her, but then he sat back in the water without ever reaching for her and she couldn't make sense of it. In her small understanding of her world, to be naked meant to be used and left at least in discomfort if not intolerable pain. But this was entirely different, though everything was different in this world of light.

Chakotay soaped the sponge then held his hand out to her. Surprisingly, she came to him. Slowly, he touched the sponge to her shoulder then worked his way down her arm. She sat very still, watching him with rapt attention as he washed her, then gently cleaned the remnants of her dinner from her face. Finally, he began the task of washing her hair, something he had dreamed about doing and wished it was under better circumstances that it was happening now.

Kathryn’s heart slowed from a gallop the longer this experience continued. The sensations he was invoked from her were not unpleasant. She let him wash her entire body and hair then he ran the rinse cycle and clean water processed through the tub, taking away the soap as he used a hand device to spray her hair clean.

"Come, let’s get you ready for bed," he suggested, standing and grabbing a towel from the rack. He wrapped it around his waist and stepped out of the tub. He turned and gestured for her to stand and when she did, he wrapped her as well and she stepped out.

He led her to her bedroom and, after helping her dry, he held a satin gown that she slipped into and couldn't help but wonder why she'd never worn the likes when they had been marooned on New Earth, but seeing her in it answered his question immediately. Then he encouraged her to sit while he dried her hair and worked a brush through the shoulder-length tresses.

As he tucked her into bed, he was presented with another dilemma. He hadn't considered the fact that he would be leaving her alone and didn't know whether he should. When he made a move towards the door, she made a sound of distress and he paused, his heart tearing again at the fearful look in her eyes. When she touched the bed next to her, he knew his mind was made up for him and he sighed.

“Okay, Kathryn. Just for tonight.'' He gave in and slid into the bed next to her and she curled into his side, as though she belonged there every night. He hoped that when she was _his_ Kathryn again, she didn’t hate him for this. He hoped that, though she was going to have a lot to process and deal with, that she understood everything he did for her came from the heart and with the deepest respect. These were the thoughts that accompanied him as he drifted off to sleep, holding her.

***

A week crept by and they settled into a routine. He checked in with the bridge regularly, but Tuvok had things well in hand and understood that Kathryn needed him more than the bridge did. So, he spent his days with Kathryn, teaching her things. He had taught her his name, her name, and a few basic words for necessities. They bathed together daily, then he spent every night with her curled into him. It was a simplistic life and, in fact, he was becoming so used to spending his days caring for her and teaching her things and his nights with her curled safely against him that he was almost sad when the Doctor commed him.

"I am ready to attempt the procedure to restore the Captain's memory. Would you please escort her to sickbay?"

"Yes, Doctor. We'll be there momentarily. Chakotay out."

"Chakotay?” she asked, questioningly, setting down the spoon as she finished with her breakfast. He offered her a small smile. There was so very much she didn't understand yet, though he had to admit, it was nice to hear her say his name again.

"We're going to see the Doctor. He's going to restore your memory." He smiled as she nodded like she understood and accompanied him without question.

He delivered her to the Doctor and waited until he had sedated her for the procedure. Chakotay hoped that it worked, but even if it didn't, he knew that he was already completely devoted to helping her relearn everything he possibly could to allow her to regain her life. He had promised years ago that he would stand by her and that’s exactly what he intended to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don't think this is my cup of tea,'' she told him. She'd never been keen on recreational violence and she didn't think now was the time to take up such a sport.

 

The ceiling in sickbay was truly horrendous. She'd heard that some years prior, Neelix had complained about it as he faced the potential that he would spend the rest of his life laying on a biobed with holographic lungs. Now, as she stared at it, she realized that he was very correct about that aesthetic failure of Starfleet ship designers. The first thing that patients should see up on waking should have been something healing, comforting. Something that reassured them that everything was going to be just fine, even if it was false truth.

She didn't alert the doctor to her wakeful state, instead wanting a few minutes to compose her thoughts privately before facing him--or worse-- Chakotay.

She remembered every horrific detail of her experience and she remembered remembering nothing. She remembered being practically helpless, having no language, no memory of self, no basic skills. She remembered being a non-person with only animalistic instincts and the associated emotions. She remembered everything damn thing that happened to her. She also remembered her liberation from Onexi's hell and every subsequent thing since. Which presented an entirely new set of problems for her.

Chakotay.

As good intentioned as he had been, the situation had resulted in not only serious breaches of the command structure, but also of her personal boundaries for them. Her little game of Proximity now had warning sirens blaring within her head. She hated feeling as though she had been victimized a second time over because Onexi had left her unable to vocalize... well… anything because she hadn't been herself.

She was angry at Chakotay for how he'd handled the last week regarding herself, but she also found herself fighting an internal battle. She reminded herself exactly how wonderful he had been and that he had coped with an unfamiliar situation in the best possible way he had known how. She remembered everything he had done to make her feel safe when she'd been _not-Kathryn_ and that came with memories of bathing naked with him, of him teaching her how to use eating utensils, of sleeping curled into his warmth, and she let out a sob, unintentionally. Her heart ached for those poignantly beautiful moments that never should have been. As intimate as it had all been, she didn't recall a moment of it being sexual, and, for that, she owed him a debt of gratitude. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that, in some inexplicable way, she had been victimized again. It wasn’t his fault. But it was. She was a mess and she knew she was going to hate herself for what would come next.

The fact of the matter was, she was Kath… no. She was the Captain again and _not-Kathryn_ had been resolved. And the first order of business for the Captain was to work on forgetting this whole horrific experience and get back to their journey home.

“Ah, Captain, you're awake."

Correction. First order of business was liberating herself from sickbay... then proceeding with the rest. Deciding that she was ready to immediately get back to work was the easy part. Convincing the Doctor that it was in her best interest was going to prove far more difficult.

"Yes, Doctor, your procedure appears to have worked flawlessly," she said as she swung herself into a sitting position.

Undeterred, he ran his medical tricorder over her and reviewed the readings. "What's your name and rank?"'

She internally rolled her eyes but decided if she humored him and cooperated, he would release her quicker. "Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Federation Starship _Voyager_."

“And where is that ship currently located?"

"We are in the Delta Quadrant, likely within some distance from a planet called Allusia."

"Where did you grow up?"

Okay, he was beginning to bother her now. "On Earth. I was born in Indiana. I have one sister, Phoebe, and my parents are Edward and Gretchen. Are we through, Doctor?" She slid from the biobed, figuring she might get further if she stood, though without her boots, her short stature did nothing to appear intimidating.

"Not so fast, Captain. You are officially off duty for the next seven days."

"Excuse me?" Her voice dropped and her eyes narrowed. He couldn’t do that to her. She needed to get back to work. He couldn’t take her off duty and leave her alone with her thoughts. Work would distract her until this became just another memory which she could banish to the dark recesses of her mind.

"By order of the Chief Medical Officer or acting-Captain Chakotay. Take your pick."

She stopped herself short of the expletive that was resting on her tongue. "Doctor. I need to work."

"This is not negotiable. Captain. If you need something to do, I suggest you take up a hobby. Now, I’m releasing you to your quarters. I'll see you back here in 72 hours for a check-up. You need time to work through what has happened, Captain. I highly recommend that you find something to channel your thoughts and emotions."

"Then let me return to duty,” she snapped.

"I hear Tom Paris is working on restoring a classic automobile. Better yet, Commander Chakotay boxes and I've been told it’s quite therapeutic. You might ask him about it."

The last person she wanted to see in her current state was Chakotay. No. She wouldn’t box. She wouldn’t paint or ask Tom about his grease-primate program or whatever it was. She did have a fleeting thought of taking up holographic program writing, though and it caused a tug at the corner of her mouth. She decided not to share that last thought with him. Instead, she placated him with a simple, defeated "We'll see."

"Captain, if you need someone to talk to, in lieu of an actual ships counselor, my door is always open," he offered.

She paused in her exit and considered it for a moment, but decided against his offer as the mere notion of sharing out loud the things that she'd been through in that cell caused a feeling of nausea to rise in her stomach and made her chest ache with tears she refused to allow herself. After all, she didn’t deserve tears. She volunteered and placed herself in harm's way to ensure the safety of five others. It was her fault this happened to her and she had acted as she always did: doing what was in the best interest of her crew. No. She didn’t deserve tears.

"Thank you. Doctor," she replied, truly appreciating the offer but politely dismissing it at the same time.

She managed the trip from sickbay to her quarters without encountering more than a handful of crewmen who she shared a nod of acknowledgment with but nothing more as she hurried past them.

Once inside the confines of her sanctuary, she felt on the verge of crumbling. The minute amount of mental fortitude she'd mustered for the doctor was exhausted and she hated feeling like a shell of the former strong, fearless woman she'd been. This Godforsaken Quadrant was determined to chew her up then spit her back out, and this time it had taken more from her than she'd ever hope to recover. Even having been in a Cardassian prison was practically paradise as compared to what she’d just experienced.

 _Better me than the others... than Seven... or Naomi_ , she told herself. She felt vomit rise in her throat at the thought of Naomi having experienced anything at Onexi's hand. She wanted to check in on the little girl but paused before comming Samantha. She wondered how many on the ship knew what had happened to her. It wasn’t something she was prepared to address with any of them. Instead, she pulled up the report of the incident and reviewed it, gratified to learn that none of the others had ever gotten as far even getting affixed with the neuro implant, let alone having been sold to Onexi’s clients.

The thought of Onexi’s clients sent memories flashing across her vision and she struggled to remind herself that she'd volunteered to take their places to spare them. It was her duty, her job. Those facts did little to ease the memories of her experience that were coming in violent waves.

A bath!

She would take a bath to help her relax and clear her head. A bath always helped her, she thought as she attempted to rise above the turbulence inside her own mind. This was precisely why she needed the distraction of work. She wouldn't have time to think about this experience if she was working and it would eventually recede behind other memories of their experience in this damned quadrant she would rather forget.

As she readied her bath and stripped off the uncomfortable medical gown, she'd left sickbay in, she was reminded of the last time she'd been in her bathroom in a medical gown. Chakotay had been here and she'd been _not-Kathryn_ and it had ended with them bathing together, nude.

She squeezed her eyes closed tightly, trying to blot out the memory. What should have, could have, been a beautiful moment between them would forever be tainted by the fact that at the time she had been _not-Kathryn_ , and if she had been Kathryn it never would have happened. Not here. Not on _Voyager_. Not now. Their professional relationship forever breached by circumstance. They had come so far since the last incident: New Earth.

She climbed into the tub, remembering another one that sat unused on a planet many light years and several tragedies behind them. He was always thinking of her. Her comfort, her needs. The extra kilometer to make her existence that much more tolerable. How long had he been doing that?

She didn't deserve it. He must have been a masochist. He really liked his torment. Here he went out of his way to be thoughtful, to consider her needs and she paid him back with empty flirtations. She took a breath and let herself sink beneath the scalding water that was making her skin prickle in response. It felt good to feel something other than the pain within. She had always done well enduring physical pain.

It was the invisible pain that she struggled with, that caused her to make reckless decisions, that caused her to impose self-imprisonment within her quarters during their time in the Void, that caused her to take chances with her own person she never would have with others, that woke her from nightmares of a phaser pressed to the skull of Noah Lessing.

She really was the worst kind of person. Chakotay did so much for her that he didn't have to and all she could focus on was the violation of her privacy and the damage to their working relationship. How could they go back to before now that they had all but lived together for the last week? After he had cared for her in a way that typically only a spouse or lover could be called upon to care for another? How could she reconcile that with stepping backwards from where they had strayed into?

Because that was _not-Kathryn_. It hadn't been her, and yet, it had been. And in his arms, she had been safe. Even now, that she had her memory back, she still couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so safe in her entire life. It was that kind of dependence that pissed her off. It was one thing if she had entered a relationship with him of her own accord and had come to depend on him over time, but this was entirely different. He should have left her confined to her quarters. He should have left her in the care of the Doctor. Why did he have to be so damn… wonderful to her?

Her lungs burned. Her heart hammered in her chest. She needed oxygen. She ignored the urge. Here in the liquid fire of the scalding water, concealed behind eyes squeezed tightly shut, she was alone. Maybe she would take a lung full of water. Would it be hot enough to damage her lungs beyond repair? Would she be absolved of the things she didn't want to remember then? It was a fleeting thought because suddenly a strong pair of hands gripped her by the biceps and hauled her to the surface and she took a breath as her face broke through the water.

"Kathryn, are you alright?" Chakotay demanded. When she hadn’t answered his comm or her door, he'd let himself in and he'd reacted when he found her under the water of her tub, fearing the worst. She hadn't been moving and she hadn't surfaced when he'd called her name.

When she opened her eyes and took a breath, he'd never felt so relieved. The Doctor alerted him that he'd released her to quarters, and he'd thought, hoped, she'd contact him. He'd been worried when she hadn't.

“I’m sorry, I thought... I was afraid you had... something had happened to you."

 _Too much has happened to me,_ she thought as he set her down on the floor outside the scalding tub. She held her tongue as he retrieved an oversized towel and wrapped it around her. She felt her jaw set and knew that this wasn’t going to end well. It was just so fucking unfair.

He felt concerned when she didn’t speak to him. The Doctor had said she was, for the most part, her feisty self again, yet he saw none of that as she sat on her bathroom floor dripping wet with her skin lobster-red from the too-hot water.

"Kathryn, do you want to talk?"

She was red from more than the bath as she flushed. She was embarrassed as her time as _not-Kathryn_ flooded back even clearer. She remembered eating risotto like an animal. She remembered him teaching her how to properly use the toilet like she'd been a toddler. Onexi had taken every damn thing from her and she was ashamed, mortified, disgusted. She hated herself for not having been strong enough to resist him, his device, for not having retained more than a single memory.

"Just go," she whispered, pleading.

"No, I don’t think I should,” he replied, kneeling before her.

She wasn't going to do this in front of him. Not now. Not here. She was teetering on the edge. “Get out," she ordered, her voice full of gravel and daggers. She would hurt him if it meant making him leave. She gripped the towel around herself tightly as she hauled herself to her feet.

"I want to help you," he told her.

"By availing yourself of my quarters whenever you feel the urge?” She advanced and he backed up until she had him backed into the living space beyond the bathroom. She continued walking towards him, challenging, predatory in nature. A surge of energy swelled in her as she felt powerful, watching him give way as she advanced. "You might have gotten away with that when I was not-Kath... when I wasn’t in my right mind, but that has been rectified and I'll be damned if you are going to violate me or my privacy ever again."

It was out before she realized her choice of phrase and the stricken look on his face at her words was an arrow straight to her heart. She was sorry. She wanted to tell him. Nonetheless, she asserted herself and had backed him up to the door. It was the first time in over a month that she felt like she had any power over herself or her person and she felt almost intoxicated with it.

"You're right, Kathryn," he said meekly. He had been concerned about the violation of her privacy but had decided that she would forgive him once she understood the necessity of his choices and why he felt they were better than the alternatives. Unfortunately, his fears about how she might react were confirmed. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to..." He knew she was reacting out of hurt, out of anger, but she was right to a degree. He had thought he was helping, taking care of her in her weakened state, but in a way, she was right, the situation had caused him to make decisions that ordinarily wouldn’t have been made had she been in her right mind.

She closed her eyes and was assaulted by images of his tenderness and her heart cried out against the injustice of what she had just insinuated. He had been trying to do what he felt was best considering the circumstances. He wasn’t anything like Onexi. He hadn't done what they had done to her. She faltered and a tear escaped down her cheek, she scrubbed it away angrily.

He didn't miss it. The single tear on her cheek glinted in sharp contrast to her display of temper towards him just moments prior. He wasn’t a counsellor. He didn’t know anymore what was best to do to try to help her. Cautiously, he reached out and touched her shoulder.

Her gut clenched. He was here. He wanted to help. She wanted to melt into him, sob out the horrors that had been done to her, to recover with him, to have him hold her and make her feel safe again.

She had to do this alone.

She wished he had confined her to quarters before when she had been _not-Kathryn_. She wished he'd never held her before, had never made her feel so safe and warm in his arms. If she didn't know what a safe harbor he was, she wouldn’t be craving that feeling now.

No.

She had to find some measure of self, regain her footing without him if she was ever going to stand on her own two feet again. Some tragedy induced co-dependency was exactly what she couldn't have right now.

"Kathryn, talk to me. I only want to help you."

"Why?" she asked. "I have done nothing to deserve your kindness," she replied, trying to control the flood that was held back by the thin veil of her closed eyelids.

It broke his heart to feel her talk in such self-depreciating phrases. He chewed on his reply for a moment, but knew it was the only one that fit. "I love you, Kathryn.”

Her eyes opened slowly, allowing her tears to spill onto her cheeks. Despite them being open, she saw memories of him gently putting her socks on her feet then sliding her shoes over them and tying the laces; felt his hand wrapped around hers as together they raised a spoon full of oatmeal to her mouth, his hands in her hair as she sat in his lap, soap lathering into her golden tresses.

_Dessert is open for interpretation._

She might have meant it at the time. She had been nearly there, prepared to redefine her little private game she called Proximity, ready to give into moving forward with him, yet always giving herself an out for when she chickened out. For all he knew, she had been flirting without any intent of following through.

Now, this situation solidified the reasoning in her head why they never could be anything more than a star-crossed captain and commander who were friends aching for more but forbidden from ever achieving it. They'd already gone too far, and she wished, when she'd been _not-Kathryn_ , he hadn't been so damn wonderful.

"If you love me, let me forget," she whispered, reaching over to palm the door to open it, signaling it was time to leave.

Chakotay wasn’t sure what had propelled him backwards out of her quarters into the corridor. He stared, unblinking as she closed her eyes, sending more tears down her cheeks, palming the door and closing it in his face.

Somehow, he had wronged her with the purest of intentions. He understood the double entendre of her words and knew it wasn’t just the experiences on Allusia She was desperate to forget. It was also the memories of the last week in which he had devoted himself to her as caregiver. What he couldn’t understand was why she couldn't see that what he did was out of necessity. Yes, love too, but what other choice did he have? Confine her, alone and scared as she had been, essentially repeating her imprisonment, just in a new place without the nightly rape? Leave her in sickbay on display for anyone who might happen by? He had been abhorred by those limited options.

He wanted to chalk it up to her emotional state and the fall out and from the underlying cause: Onexi and being his prisoner; the mindless month spent being raped. If she would only talk to him, perhaps he could help her find the path to making peace with those experiences so she could reconcile herself and recover.

In her current state, he was placed in a difficult position as not only her friend but acting captain of _Voyager._ He had to consider her best interest as well as that of the ship and crew. In a weeks’ time, if she was still as volatile as she was now, he was going to be placed in the very difficult position of relieving her of duty, possibly on a permanent basis.

She paced the floor, racing thoughts her only companion. She was certain there was probably a wear mark in the carpet. She’d tried sitting. She couldn't stay sat still. She'd opened Dante's Inferno several times, seeking a companion in Dante as he traversed his hell, as she was hers, but she couldn’t focus, to read. She needed something to calm her nerves, dull her senses a bit so she could think.

She pulled out a bottle of Jameson from her private stock. She was down to just a couple of bottles, but this was one of those occasions when she quite needed to forget for a while, to have a bit of a reprieve from the demons that haunted her and the memories that were threatening to destroy her.

The first shot burned all the way down until it found a home in her belly and warmed her from within. The next one she sipped at, but it went down a little quicker than she’d planned. By the bottom of the third she was feeling a bit relaxed, warm, and mentally dull. It was perfect. She wanted more. It swept away her racing memories and she was able to sit, finally, without feeling jittery.

She was significantly tipsy by the time she crawled into the cold bed and her heart ached. She hated herself for having hurt Chakotay. Her sobs overwhelmed her, and she cried until she was a tear soaked hiccupping mess. She picked up her comm badge to call him several times over.

She didn't call him. She didn't go to him. She flung the badge across the room and, instead, shoved her spare pillow up against the wall, rolled her blankets along the remainder of the length of the bed and tried to curl into them as she had him when they had shared this bed just last night. It wasn’t the same but, nonetheless, she fell into a fitful sleep, battling her tormentors in her dreams until she woke screaming. It was the first of what would become several sleepless nights where her screams deteriorated into sobbing his name and her own self torment in that she utterly refused to call him to her side.

***

Seventy-two hours after her release, she pasted on a smile and presented herself to the Doctor as the picture of health, secretly hoping she would fool him into releasing her walk to duty early. She wished she were surprised when he chastised her for her alcohol use and crushed her hopes by asking her how she was channeling her emotional discontent beyond a bottle of whiskey.

She wasn't.

He added three days to her punishment a.k.a. restriction from duty and practically ordered her to seek out a confidant among the crew when she could trust to talk with about her experiences or some measure of therapy.

She placated him. Madder than hell about the extra three days leave. She didn’t desire to talk with anyone. She didn't feel she could. Ordinarily her first choice would have been Chakotay. But he was off limits by her own choosing and she didn’t feel this was something she could discuss with Tuvok. That left her with no available option. She considered one of the holodeck programs. She was certain she could summon a program of Freud or Jung or one of the greats of the psychological disposition, but that didn’t appeal to her either. No, she would continue working through this on her own, if what she was doing could be called _working through it._

And then Tuvok came to her. She had a sneaking suspicion either the Doctor or Chakotay had enlisted him.

"Captain, how are you?" he asked after she invited him into her quarters, which were uncharacteristically unkempt.

"I am well," she lied, as she tidied the table then gestured to the couch. If she passed this test, perhaps they would let her get back to work. She was anything but well. In fact, she was positively neurotic being idle, but no one seemed to understand that fact.

"The Doctor and Commander Chakotay expressed concern about you," he told her, accepting her offer of a place to sit.

"Can I get you anything? "she asked, heading to the replicator, ignoring his comment.

“Thank you, no.''

She replicated herself a cup of coffee and joined him in front of the star field that streaked past.

“'I am concerned about you," he tried.

"Tuvok, I’ve survived worse," she said, only this time that wasn't exactly true. This had been the worst thing she'd ever been through. Even dealing with the mental games played between herself and Kashyk weren't as tolling or tragic as this had been.

“I can assist you in ordering your thoughts and managing your emotions.''

She considered him as he sat, a dark figure silhouetted by the even darker space beyond. If she didn’t know him and didn't trust him, he might have appeared an intimidating figure, she might have even been frightened of him. Even still, she felt nerved up and attributed it to the fact that she was tightly wound in general these days.

"If you are suggesting a mind meld, Tuvok, I appreciate the offer, but I must decline. These experiences aren't ones that I care to share with anyone, ever."

“I do not have to remind you of the therapeutic qualities of sharing your experiences and working towards reconciliation."

She swallowed hard, knowing he was right, at least all measure of psychological studies for decades supported his statement as to humans, but she did not care. She would and had been a ships counselor's worst nightmare, so she was glad she didn’t have one. Eventually, they would let her get back to what she did best, which was running her ship. She just had to convince them she wouldn’t have a flashback or something and get them all killed.

"Tuvok, I will work through this issue in my own way and being able to do that means getting back to work. So, until the Doctor and Commander decide to release me from this continued hell so I can get back to doing my job, I’m going to continue sitting here in this prison of theirs until I slowly go insane. If you want to help, then I suggest you return to them and recommend they allow me to return to duty and give me my ship back."

Tuvok didn’t miss the way she fidgeted with her hands when they spoke, nor did he miss the fact that she never once sipped the coffee that was her normal vice. He did notice the empty liquor glasses littered upon several surfaces, catching the scent in the air as he'd passed the table. He noticed her appearance wasn't as tidy and kempt as he was accustomed to seeing her. She had dark circles beneath her eyes, her garment was rumpled, and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail.

He had gathered that she and the Commander had a quarrel which had fractured their friendship because the Commander had been persistent that he take stock of her appearance for clues as to her true state of being. If she and the Commander were on speaking terms, he wouldn’t have made such a request and would have visited her himself.

"I will relay your request, Captain," he replied, not needing any further indication that their visit had concluded. He stood and took his leave of her, pausing at the door to turn back and momentarily observe his friend. Her internal battle was nearly tangible to his keen senses, but he didn’t share that observation with her. Instead, he would deliver his report to the Commander and the Doctor with his conclusion which was that, although she was not in a condition to return to active duty, they should give her some measure of work and responsibility, even if it was the equivalent of a desk job.

***

Seven days. It had been seven days since she’d spoken to him and he couldn’t help but worry about her daily. It had been nearly as many since he had seen her, since anyone had seen her besides the Doctor, of course. Neelix had tried delivering meals to her quarters and she had rejected them. B’Elanna and Tom had tried stopping by to invite her to a game of velocity with themselves and Seven, but she had refused. Even Naomi had thoughtfully delivered a card to her. He was grateful she had decided to see the child for a few moments and appreciatively accepted the card. Otherwise, it was almost as though she was a ghost.

Tuvok’s report hadn't given him the reassurance he wanted that she was, indeed, working through what had happened to her. He didn’t know how to fix what had happened between them. Somehow time didn’t seem to be the answer. He had relented and given her reports to review, sent her ship status logs. In a very perfunctory manner, she reviewed them, approved them, and dismissed them. She never commed him to question about them. She never commed anyone, according to the logs. He had checked. He didn’t want to violate her privacy, but out of fear for her safety, he had asked the Doctor to monitor her life signs, just in case.

He was incredibly surprised when he rounded the corner to the holodeck to find her entering it. He had reserved an hour, or so he'd thought, for a workout with the heavy bag. He jogged the rest of the way down the corridor to catch up with her. As far as he knew, this was the first time she had left her quarters for any reason other than to make her mandatory doctor appointments. He stopped at the door before it closed, causing it to open wide and let him through behind her.

"Hello," he greeted her, feeling incredibly awkward. He was acutely aware that the last time they spoke it had not ended well and he hoped her state of mind was a lot better and more stable today now that a little time had passed.

"Chakotay... I... I’m sorry, did you have the holodeck reserved?" she suddenly realized she hadn't bothered to check the log to see if the time was booked. She thought perhaps an hour or two in da Vinci's workshop might help her find some solace or a hobby that could take her mind off things.

"Yes, but it’s okay. Please, take the hour," he offered. He was just happy to see she was out of her quarters.

"No. It's fine. I’m sorry.” She turned to leave. It was foolish of her not to check the logs and she felt like a heel for having usurped his time.

Chakotay reached out to put his hand on her arm, but just short of touching her, he stopped. He wasn’t sure where her boundaries were any more. In the past, a touch of the arm might have been a casual, friendly gesture which she would have been fine with. Today, he just wasn’t sure and didn’t want to send her scurrying down the corridor, damaging progress she might have made.

"Kathryn, don't go."

She surprised herself, and him, when she stopped at his plea. She felt rotten about the way they had left things and over the last seven days, she'd had a lot of time to think and sort through some of her thoughts. She had arrived at an acceptance of the measures he had taken when she'd been _not-Kathryn_ and accepted he did what he thought was best under the circumstances. She reminded herself that he was her friend and everything he had done for her had come from the purest of intentions. She struggled with the violation of her privacy of person, but had to come to terms with the fact that when it came to those who had wronged her, it all came down to intent, and Chakotay had intended her no harm and no ill-effect from the measures he had taken in caring for her.

The last seven days of separating herself from him had helped her to remember that she could survive on her own. She could face her demons on her own. But it also had the effect of making her miss him desperately, and she concealed that fact deep within herself. While she had been _not-Kathryn,_ she and her body had gotten accustomed to him and his ever-present warmth in her bed, so much so that she struggled to sleep without him. Nightmares were her only bedfellows these days.

"Chakotay, I’m sorry for… well… I’m sorry,” she said hastily. She hated when she was wrong and had to own up, but she did it because she had to. She needed him as her friend. And she wanted her ship back. It would be a shorter road if he wasn't upset with her, she figured. Though that was only secondary to her cause. She depended on their friendship to see her way rightly, maybe even more than she depended on her friendship with Tuvok, these days.

She surprised him a second time with her apology. He had expected her to disappear back to her quarters for the next several days, or the duration of their trip. The last thing he had anticipated was a self-compelled apology, even if it was hasty, because it wasn’t something she did well. He nodded, offering her a smile of acceptance. She didn’t return it and that’s when he realized how worn down, she looked. Her face was pale, and she looked much like Tuvok had described her. She looked like a defeated woman, absent was the vibrant spark that he loved about her: that made her Kathryn Janeway.

"Would you stay and run a program with me?"

"No, I should go..."

"Come on, just for a few minutes. If you want to leave after that, I won't protest."

She hesitated. Friends. She had fully planned to keep a distance between them for a while. She wasn't ready to step back into the realm of weekly dinners and flirtations now, if ever. Friends visited holodeck programs together. She could do this.

_If you love me, let me forget._

She didn’t have the gumption to fight him. And perhaps if she played along, it would put her another step closer to him and the doctor agreeing to let her go back on duty. She nodded. She could manage a friendly visit to the holodeck. Maybe they would walk together on the beach and he would tell her about the latest ships gossip. Not that he was typically a gossip, but she knew from reviewing the reports everything routine that was happening. It might be interesting to hear about Neelix’s latest meal adventure or Naomi’s mischief or Seven and B’Elanna sparring over something.

"Thank you. Computer, run program," he ordered. The holodeck transformed into the gym that held a boxing ring and, off to the side, a heavy bag.

“I don't think this is my cup of tea,'' she told him. She'd never been keen on recreational violence and she didn't think now was the time to take up such a sport.

"Humor me and give it a try," he requested, holding out a pair of women's gloves for her which he replicated while she was disdainfully appraising the program.

She was just humoring him, she reminded herself. _Friends._ She slid her hands into the gloves. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

Chakotay was counting himself fortunate that she was going along, despite her fair-weather feelings about the whole thing. "Come over here.” He led her to the heavy bag. They would start with something simple, basic. Most anyone could punch a bag. But he wanted her to understand it was more than just fist hitting bag. “This is a heavy bag. When you hit it, it isn’t just punching the bag and trying to beat it to a pulp. There is a technique to it.”

She didn't expect there to be rules to punching a defenseless, hanging bag, but despite her initial reluctance, she found she was actually interested. The fact that he used the word _technique_ fascinated her. She just assumed people boxed to hit the bag, or their opponent, as hard as they could in order to release their pent-up aggression, and then carried on with their day.

"Stay focused and pay attention to the bag, just as you would an opponent. Your stance is just as important as how you hold your hands.” He stepped behind her and almost grabbed her hips to position her without warning her and he caught himself. "I... Ah... I’m going to help position you,'' he warned her, then used her hips to guide her. He had to remember to think about the little things. He might have just positioned her before without thinking about the physical contact, and she never would have noticed. Things were different now, and he was forever reminding himself that she might be sensitive to unexpected contact.

The moment his hands made contact with her, memories of him caring for her, washing her gently with the sponge, making circles on her back as she curled into them to sleep all came rushing back. She felt warm, feverish, and her heartbeat quickened.

"You were supposed to let me forget," she muttered.

"What?" he asked, not having heard her.

"Never mind. Please, continue." She shoved away the physical reaction to his hands. _Friends._ Nothing more, nothing less.

"Okay. This will help you maintain your balance. Don't push with your shoulders or arms. Your goal is to hit the bag firmly, not to send it swinging around. Relax your arms and throw quick, snappy punches. Short, quick contact with the bag repeatedly. Brief little pauses but keep the punches landing. Quick, fast. That's the key. We'll worry about dancing later," he said and nearly chuckled at her expression.

“You aren't serious, right?"

"It’s not altogether unlike tennis, from what I know of the game. You must move to the ball. In this sport, there's foot work, too. And, similarly, don't forget to breathe. Good technique is more important than power."

Kathryn stifled a smile. Oh, how she had heard those same words numerous times over from her tennis coach when she'd been on the court trying to crush the ball. "How do I hold my hands?" she asked.

Chakotay was happy that she was interested enough to ask questions. Perhaps he'd make a sparring partner out of her yet. They could never have an actual match because of their vastly different weight categories, but it would be fun to have someone to spar with someone who wasn't a holographic character. He stepped around to stand before her and took her gloved hands and positioned them in front of her.

"Lead with your dominant hand," he recommended before stepping back.

Kathryn set her sights on the grey bag and took a breath then set her mind to what she was supposed to do. She threw her first punch.

"Good, but shorter, snappier. This isn't tennis with the long follow through. Land your punch, repeat,” he advised. "Try a series of five punches."

Kathryn readied herself and tried again, reminding herself: short, firm, snappy punches. Five of them. She punched the bag, feeling her heart rate tick up a little by the last blow. She felt awkward standing in place though and she understood now why he said footwork was involved.

"That was better. Sometimes it's helpful to visualize the bag is an adversary," he suggested.

Kathryn acknowledged him, deciding she really liked this so far. She could certainly see why he found this exercise so therapeutic. She focused her eyes on the bag and conjured an image of Onexi’s face. Ten quick snaps of her fist where his face appeared before her eyes. She felt a natural rhythm come to her feet.

Chakotay observed her and was surprised when she moved, sending quick punches into the fabric of the bag, Landing her blows in a tightly focused pattern, her feet finding a rhythm that worked for her. She was a natural and he was impressed how quickly she caught on. He felt the tennis references certainly helped. Maybe one day she would teach him the game.

Kathryn forgot where she was. The room went dark around her, her visor tunneled. All she could see was her gloved fists landing punches on Onexi's devilish, scarlet face. She was furious she couldn't make him bleed. She felt as though all her emotions constricted within her chest, burning white hot like they were about to go nova. She didn't hear herself scream as she pounded the face of her adversary in her mind's eye.

He watched as she became hyper-focused on the bag and suddenly wished he hadn't suggested she envision her adversary. When her punches increased in tempo and force and her breathing rapidly increased, he knew she was picturing Onexi, or someone who had recently victimized her. Her scream was guttural and ripped from her very core, a sound that made him tremble deep within. This was a deep hurt, an agonizing wound within her that was finding its release. He hesitated to stop her, to come between her and the bag, lest he should become her unintentional target, but he was afraid that therapy might turn to injury if he didn't. he debated a moment and decided to let her go. Sometimes bigger hurt needed to take precedence over minor physical injury, and this was the first time she had released any of her pent-up hurt and rage over what had happened to her.

Red colored her black-rimmed vision, her breaths were coming hard and fast as she exerted herself, salty sweat dripped down her face into her eyes, her hair was plastered to her forehead while her ponytail swung wetly with every punch. Her clothes were damp, her hands ached, her arm and chest muscles screamed in protest. In her mind, she was beating Onexi to death. He deserved it. Another scream ripped from her throat as she felt her knees begin to turn to jelly and she faltered.

Chakotay saw the collapse coming and dove to catch her, saving her from the full impact of meeting the ground. He softened the blow and he ended up sitting awkwardly on the floor with her in his arms, feeling her tremble with the copious amounts of adrenaline surging through her as her labored breaths came in staccato draws of oxygen. He felt her heart thundering against his arm as he held her on the floor. She didn't fight him. She didn’t protest. Instead, the floodgates gave away and she sobbed heavy and hard, her tears of anguish landing on their shirts and his arm.

They sat like that for at least twenty minutes before her wracking sobs ceased and she stilled in his arms, feeling emotionally numb and somehow empty but peaceful all at once. Maybe it was the emotionally draining nature of her exertions and the resolution of her adrenaline. Maybe it was the angry release she'd just experienced for the first time since the whole experience began. Unfortunately, she feared that she was only in the eye of the storm and that, once again, she had collapsed into the safe harbor that was Chakotay’s arms. She had to stop finding herself like this. But right now, she was too weak to fight what she knew was right for the moment and gave in.

"Kathryn?" He didn't know exactly how to proceed. This was her ballgame and he knew he was just along for the ride.

She felt the tears well up in her throat all over again. "I wish I had gotten to kill him like that.'' She flicked her eyes up to the heavy bag she had just beaten senseless. “He deserved a slow, painful death for what he did to me, for what he did to countless others before me."

"How did he get you to stray from the pattern enhancers?" he asked, not wanting to ask too much or delve into sensitive subjects before she was ready.

"I was trailing a child that had hair like Naomi's. He knew we had planned a deception and played it back on us. When I realized what had happened, I didn’t get a chance to get back to the transport site because someone snapped a transporter tag on me. I was still counting on you to be able to extract me with the beacon in my wrist, but he detected it and neutralized it before I even knew he had. It didn't take long to figure out I was in the hands of a madman." She paused to wipe away the fresh tears that collected in her eyes.

"Do you want to continue this somewhere more comfortable?” he asked, realizing they were well over his reserved time on the holodeck. He didn't want anyone walking in and finding her in such a vulnerable state.

"Yes. My quarters, please," she requested. Chakotay called for the site to site, knowing Tuvok would flick an eyebrow but would disregard it when he saw that the Captain was a party to it.

The first thing he noticed was that her quarters, which were never in disarray seemed to be verging on chaos. He resisted the urge to tidy up empty glasses containing what he believed to be whiskey and to toss her clothing into the recycler. He didn't want to overstep any fragile boundary lines that appeared to be shifting.

Slump-shouldered and weary, she made her way to the couch and sat down upon it heavily. He joined her, pulling off the boxing gloves and revealing her bleeding knuckles and swollen tissue. She didn't even notice the pain from them.

“Do you want me to get a dermal regenerator?”

She shook her head.

"What happened after you realized the transponder was dead?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but knew she needed to get it out to someone.

"He taunted me about that, and he promised to punish me for my deception. He explained his business to me and the procedure which included the implant that would make me forget myself. I can't even put into words the inexplicable amount of fear that accompanies suddenly having your mind wiped. No basis of comparison, no logic, no knowledge, no language. I was terrified and had no ability to explain why. I simply existed with a blank mind except for one memory from what had been before. And then... Onexi..." She paused then, not sure if she was strong enough to go on, or whether he was strong enough to hear it.

Not thinking, he reached out and touched her arm, causing her to jump. "I’m sorry," he said. He had to rethink every gesture that might have been permissible before.

"No, please don't be.” She took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, despite the swollen nature of her own. She hated what this experience had done to her, them, their easy friendship, and what it had caused her to do to him. She hated that he seemed to hesitate before every casual gesture that might have put him into physical contact with her. It had never been like that before, and she hated that it was like that now.

“Onexi first beat me with a whip then he raped me in that state. After it was over, he deposited me alone in a dark cell for a while. He was a fairly regular visitor to my cell." It was a sick sense of wonderment that caused her to ponder whether he would have kept her alive for his own amusement rather than force her to undergo regular reprogramming as he had threatened. She was glad she never had to find out and she didn’t share her musing with her companion.

Chakotay was torn between his heart aching for her and wanting vengeance on a dead man all over again. He didn't want her to continue but knew she had to, and he let her, deciding not to interrupt her despite the sick feeling in his stomach.

"Onexi was only the first that night. Every hour and a half, the door opened to my room, admitting ever more fierce clients whose only purpose was to use and abuse me in the most depraved and disgusting ways ever conceived of. There were six that first night, like clockwork. I think Onexi was trying to break me or train me what to expect my life to be like until the device finished my 30-day brain wipe. Then the ante would be upped because he could custom program me for approximately 300 sessions to his customers perverted pleasures. Fifty-two times I was raped by forty-five different aliens. The rest of the time, it was Onexi.”

"Kathryn. I can't imagine..."

“I don’t know if I will ever feel myself in my skin again.” She paused and looked reflective for a moment before she continued. "You know, in hindsight. I think not remembering anything might have somehow made it easier. That’s a strange thing to say. Some instinct told me that because of my one retained memory that there was supposed to be or had been more to my life, but I had no ability to explain what. I just had this image in my head that I traced over and over so I wouldn't lose it. I think if I had known who I was if I had been me, I might have made my situation and injuries worse. I might have begun to devise a way to commit suicide. I am sickened to say that near the end before you rescued me, I began to accept my status as I knew it. My food was delivered through the door and so were my punishers. I hate that I got to a point where I was laying down and acquiescing to whatever they wanted. I had learned it hurt less most of the time if I submitted. If I had been me, if I had been of my right mind, I might not have lived through it. I might have provoked one of them into killing me."

"Your submitting likely saved your life long enough for us to come up with a rescue plan," he confirmed her feelings. "Did the Doctor go over your list of injuries with you?"

"He did."

"It's a wonder yea were able to survive thirty days, Kathryn. Your strength, your instincts allowed that for which I am eternally grateful," he told her.

She considered his words of praise in silence, not reinforcing her own thoughts that weakness and amnesia were more to blame for her survival. That and Onexi's desire to get his money's worth from her.

"You said you had one memory left?"

She was pulled out of her silent thoughts and showed him the scar on her arm, though she knew he had seen it several times. It had been their silent method of communication. His recognition of her like mark had helped her trust him, to come to accept that they were linked, somehow.

"I had wondered about that," he admitted.

"I traced your tattoo in my cell in my own blood, on every surface invisibly when I had nothing with which to trace. I found a metal shard in my cell too small to do anything with except this.” She tapped her arm in the spot that held the scar over where the transponder had originally been implanted by the Doctor.

"I didn't have the Doctor heal it while you...  when you weren't yourself. It seemed significant to you and I didn't want it to suddenly disappear and for you to not understand why." He was secretly touched that the mark which had so much cultural meaning for him had been the one memory out of her whole entire life that her brain had latched on to and refused to let go of. "I'm surprised you haven’t had him heal it since."

She felt uncomfortable and she fidgeted. "I thought about it but... I don't know why I didn't. Maybe I should,” she stammered, not wanting to admit that she was actually planning to leave the scar.

"Kathryn, if you want to keep the scar or if you want me to tattoo over it for you, I would not be offended," he told her. He actually felt touched that the mark held significance for her now, too. In some way, it had meant survival to her; a kind of map to understanding where she belonged.

Secretly, she was relieved that he was accepting of her unspoken plan. "I knew in my gut when you entered my cell that I belonged to you... that is, I mean, that we were... well... connected somehow because of your tattoo. It suddenly made sense in my all but empty brain why I remembered it."

She knew there was another subject to broach, and she wasn't sure how to bring up the aftermath of her rescue. She had taken time to digest the experiences she'd had with him in the week before the Doctor had been able to restore her memory and reached the conclusion that yes, he had done only what he'd felt was necessary, and he had acted entirely honorably through the duration. When he had bathed her, he had been as professional and gentle as a nurse would have been, only acting her as was necessary to clean her. He hadn't touched her in any manner that was remotely sexual or meant to take advantage of her and, in her emotionally turbulent state, she had been very wrong to have accused him of having violated her.

"Chakotay, I know I'm not very good at this...so please, hear me out,'' she began, regretting having done so because she could see him visually brace himself. She hadn't meant it to sound like a speech was coming. She had planned to preface her apology with citing her emotional state and thank him for his diligence and patience but decided to shit can the spiel.

"Oh, to hell with it. I’m sorry. You rescued me, you nursed me, and took care of me. You went way above and beyond the call of duty and I acted horrendously toward you for your efforts for which I am grateful, and I am sorry for the things I said and the accusations I made." She had already made a quick apology to him earlier, but she wanted to make sure that he knew it came from the heart. That she truly did realize her error in how she had behaved.

Chakotay was surprised at her blunt admission of wrong as it was quite out of character for her. He had accepted her earlier, hasty apology, but this one seemed more genuine, more emotional for her. “I already told you once why I did what I did. I meant it then as I do now. I love you, Kathryn Janeway, and I have for a very long time. Nothing will change the way I feel about you.''

She steeled herself against his admission. _If you love me, let me forget_. She did want to forget the whole mess that had happened to them. Nothing had changed about their circumstances enough to warrant a change in the status quo of their relationship. They were still on _Voyager_ and they were still in the Delta Quadrant. And yet, he had just spent a month with the singular interest of extracting her from a situation which she had volunteered for in order to secure the release of five of her crew members.

What if they had been in a relationship? How much would he have risked extracting her at that point? Was there any way his efforts could have been greater than they already were? That question led her to being forced to admit to herself that since he already loved her, his efforts would have been unchanged and undeterred. What was the sense in denying themselves the fulfillment of a relationship when their love for one another already caused them to make different decisions than they ordinarily would have?

How long had this been going on and why hadn’t she ever taken the time to analyze it in this manner before? She loved him. That much she knew. It was that love that had caused them to go on a mission to retrieve what they believed was his child from Seska years prior and nearly cost them _Voyager_. It was that love that had left her furious with Riley Frazer when she had used him. When she asked herself if she would have made the same decisions if she hadn't loved him, she was forced to admit the answer was no. Several times over she had made decisions related to him she wouldn't have made absent her love for him.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't love you, Chakotay. I do. I just..." she stopped herself, feeling ashamed; feeling no longer good enough or even worthy enough of him in light of the nature of abuse she'd suffered. She didn't know if she could... how she would react to him touching her in that way and that measure of damage was nothing he deserved to have to deal with. “I’m still broken, and I don't know if I'll ever be right again," she finally said, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment in her face.

"If this is about sex, Kathryn. I’m not concerned about that. I just want to be close to you... as close as you are comfortable with," he admitted. Yes, sex was often a nice part of a relationship... a very, _very_ nice part, but it wasn't something he needed from her and it certainly wasn't a make or break for him. He loved this extraordinary woman all these years thus far without it, so suddenly being closer to her didn't mean they had to fly warp speed into it.

She felt like a giant weight was lifted and some of her reservations and fears melted away. She simply didn't deserve this man, that's all there was to it, yet she found herself thanking whatever fate brought him into her life: the caretaker, some universal power, Q, God... whatever it was, she was grateful.

"Thank you for telling me what happened to you on Allusia. It took great courage for you to tell me." He wanted to make sure he recognized all her accomplishments towards healing as it was his goal to help rebuild her self-confidence.

"It was time. Thank you for teaching me that beating the crap out of a bag is therapeutic after all. I hope we can do it again sometime."

He chuckled. "You're a natural. Maybe eventually you'll make a good sparring partner.''

"Only if I get to make a tennis player out of you," she joked back.

"That’s not a bad idea," he replied.

She felt herself smile a genuine smile her first in weeks. “I’d call that a date.” And she meant it in the truest sense of the word.


	4. Epilogue - 6 Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Spirits, you are beautiful," he whispered, and she crooked an eyebrow up at him.  
> “Exactly how hard did I hit you?” she teased.

_Feet moving. Block. Snappy punch. Duck. Block. Punch. Punch. Block._

A tickle of sweat snaked its way down the back of her neck as she bobbed and weaved. Twinkle toes. It's what he jokingly called her, telling her those ballet classes had come in handy for more than a dying swan rendition.

Her ponytail smacked wetly against her shoulders. Block, block. He was anticipating her. Snap, snap. Duck. Snap.

"Shit!" she cursed as her gloved hand made contact with his cheekbone, sending him stumble back until he landed on his rear on the mat. She chucked off the gloves and was instantly on her knees, hovering over him.

"Chakotay are you alright?" She'd missed the pad he'd been holding up for her to punch.

Chakotay found himself gazing up at the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Her hair was dark when it was wet and little strands clung to her sweat-damp forehead. Her blue eyes were even move vibrant with her exertion and her alabaster skin shone like marble with the glisten of her sweat. The swell of her breasts heaved with her labored breathing under the tight tank top. He felt himself growing hard under the slippery lycra of his boxing shorts and there was nothing he could do to conceal his arousal.

"Spirits, you are beautiful," he whispered, and she crooked an eyebrow up at him.

“Exactly how hard did I hit you?” she teased.

“Not hard enough for me not to notice,” he replied.

Her eyes found his, his musky scent from sweat and the woody remnants of his cologne were intoxicatingly full of pheromones that were invisibly working on her brain. In the last three months she had been permitted to return to duty, they'd made several successful trades with species they met during their travels, and, in their off-hours, they had worked on cultivating their relationship while working through her healing process. Although it was yet unconsummated, he had shared her bed several times, comforting her when she woke with screaming nightmares and holding her while she sobbed and shared her horrors with him. He listened, patiently, lovingly, as she detailed things that he would rather have not heard but refused to allow her to suffer with alone.

Kathryn was careful to assert her boundaries and Chakotay respected everyone, knowing for this to work, and for her to recover, she had to lead the way. It was important for her to dictate the pace and he was accepting that he was her companion on this journey.

She didn't move, despite being reassured he wasn't injured. She gazed down into his glittering, dark eyes, felt the labored breathing from the way his chest brushed hers when he inhaled. That's when she leaned down and kissed him, her lips tentatively touching his at first, and he held still, letting her explore and experiment with pressure until she deepened the kiss, pressing his lips apart with her own.

Chakotay wanted nothing more than to grab her in his arms and kiss her with every ounce of pent up ardor within his body, but he resisted the urge. There would be time enough for passion, this was her mission and he was determined to let her take the helm, responding to her every demand.

Kathryn felt a surge of arousal course through her body, a curious sensation. It had been so long since she had felt desire, since she had hungered for the touch of another and she felt powerful as he let her take the lead.

She pushed up his shirt, enjoying the smell of him, fresh from their workout in the ring. She'd always found the smell of a man to be arousing but this man's scent worked on her like a drug. She leaned down, leaving a scattering of kisses across his chest, she paused to playfully nip at his nipples for which she was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath at the sensation. She allowed herself a small smile at his response and continued her journey downward until she came to the waist of his shorts and expertly undid the fastener and, when he lifted his hips, slid them and his briefs down, allowing his thick erection to spring free.

He desperately wanted to touch her, but he held back. Too much too quick could be hazardous. This was like an intricate dance and it was imperative that he let her dictate their movements until she resigned that position of her own accord.

Her hand closed around his pulsating shaft and, had he been less controlled, it might have been all over. Part of him was as anxious as an Academy cadet but maturity took a firm grasp over him as she gazed up at him then lowered her lips to the bulbous head of his erection and, ever so slowly, they parted, allowing him to slip into the hot wetness of her mouth.

Chakotay watched her with lust-drunk fascination as she tasted him, first allowing her mouth to close around the head, her slippery tongue working in swirling motions like she might a lollypop. Then, slowly, painstakingly slowly, she let him slide further into her mouth until nearly his full length disappeared and the head was firmly against the back of her throat. The heat of her mouth was incredible. She pulled back and began stroking him with her mouth, one of her small hands at the base of his erection, stroking opposite of her mouth and he groaned deeply. He had often thought of himself as having above average stamina; at the rate she was going, she was going to quickly dispel that belief.

He reached down then, daring to touch her, her damp hair like wet silk through his fingers. He resisted the desire to thrust his hips to meet her. Gently, he played with her hair, feeling it thread through his fingers. Spirits, he loved this woman.

She cupped his balls in her other hand and he found himself thinking of cleaning plasma manifolds and naked Cardassians to keep himself from exploding in her mouth right then and there.

"Kathryn," he groaned, and she gazed up at him with unbridled desire that just about tipped him over the edge.

She had a feeling he was close from how his balls felt in her hand and she wondered how long he could hold off. Her name from his lips was enough of a signal and she let his erection part from her mouth. A small voice in her head asked her what in the hell she was doing; a significantly louder one was cheering her on and applauding the fact that she was about to have sex with her First Officer in a holographic boxing ring. She felt daring, but best of all, she felt sexy again. She was going to own this experience entirely and blatantly refused to regret a Goddamn thing about it.

She stood before him then, first pulling her tank top over her head, then her bra. She paused to toe her shoes off before dropping her shorts and kicking them aside, too. She hesitated then, a momentary wave of anxiety creeping up her spine and sending a shiver through her. This would be the first time she'd willingly been with a man since… Mark.

Kathryn shook her head, chasing away the feeling of self-consciousness that was trying to divert her from this course. _No, this is happening_ , she told herself, hooking her fingers in her panties and sliding them down her legs. She stepped out of them, leaving her to stand before him completely nude. It was then that she found his eyes, drinking her in as though she were a glass of water and he'd just crawled across the Sahara. It made her tremble for an entirely different reason: anticipation. Never before had a man looked at her like that and it made her flush warm from within. Not Cheb, not Justin, not even Mark.

Kathryn parted her legs and positioned herself so that she was standing over top of him, then knelt with a knee on either side of his hips. The canvas was rough against her knees and she didn't care one bit that it meant she would absolutely have rug burn before they were through. She would wear those chafed knees under her uniform with a sense of pride and accomplishment. She would smile at every painful scuff, instantly flashing back to this moment. Her heart swelled so it felt near ready to burst.  

Chakotay reached up and cupped her cheek, causing her to lean forward and find his lips with her own. Gentle pressure and he opened his mouth to her quick little tongue, swirling and flicking his for a moment before she rose up over him, reaching a hand behind her. She gripped his erection then slowly allowed his length to slide in to her tight, wet, hot depths until he filled her completely and she rewarded him with a deep, reverberating throaty moan followed by a sharp intake of air.

Kathryn ground her knees into the mat, using her hands on his chest to steady herself. She began rocking against him slowly until she mastered the rhythm and he was gliding in and out of her on the rivers of her wetness mingled with his precum.

"Oh Chakotay,” she sighed as she rode him, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs rubbing delightfully against his pubic bone while the friction from him gliding in and out of her body was working her into a frenzy. The tidal wave grew until it crashed over, and she came, muscles constricting around the thickness that filled her, ripples of pleasure exploding outwards in all directions; coursing through every fiber of her being until she was seeing starbursts across her vision.

He was transfixed watching and feeling her shudder and quake around him. Watching her cum had to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen and heard. How he didn't crash over the edge with her was entirely a mystery to him. At that point he sat up, still deep inside of her. He lifted her by the hips so he could cross his legs under her, and she crossed hers behind the small of his back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to guide her thrusts with his hands on her hips and she moaned, deciding she liked this position very much. He began with slow, luxurious thrusts, finding her mouth with his own. They continued to make love with their mouths as the tempo increased until she broke from his mouth to call out his name.

"I love you, Kathryn,” he said on a sighed current of air, her forehead pressed to his own.

"I love you," she replied, feeling the burning current about to race through her body like a rip tide.

Then she was cumming again, her body suckling him greedily and taking him over with her. He felt the white-hot sensation spread from his loins until it was surrounding him inside of her and he was calling out her name, clutching her to himself as though he never wanted to let her go.

And then they were still, save for their labored breathing and the way their hearts beat in sync with their chests were pressed together; foreheads resting on one another’s shoulders. They held one another as the sweat cooled in the recycled air.

As Kathryn sat on his lap, wrapped in his arms, she allowed herself a small smug smile. It was the smile of the cat who ate the canary, of the victor over his contemptuous foe. Onexi may have tried to take everything from her but what she'd gained was far superior to that which he’d taken. She was victorious over her demons while he lay in his grave, hopefully answering to whatever God he may have believed in for his crimes against his victims.

"What do you say to dinner on me?" she asked finally as they began to untangle themselves from one another.

Chakotay chortled as he went about the task of helping her gather her clothing from the floor of the ring. "Is that meant to be taken literally, Captain?" he teased, subtly replaying a scene they’d shared a few months ago before the tragic affair they had just buried.

She snickered realizing she'd done it again, only this time she knew she meant what she was about to say. "No.  However, dessert is open for interpretation."

"I see. In that case, I think I’ll skip the main course." He deftly swooped in and captured a nipple with his mouth and sucked hard on the dusky rose tip that pebbled against the ministrations of his tongue.

She gasped then laughed before swatting him on the shoulder. "You are incorrigible."

"You have no idea, Kathryn."

She felt her abdomen constrict with anticipation at all the new exploration ahead of them. “I can’t wait to find out!”

And she wholeheartedly meant it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Tattoo, A How to Remember Vignette](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087545) by [katesfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katesfire/pseuds/katesfire)




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